


le bonheur dans nos soupirs

by LtTanyaBoone



Series: nous nous retrouverons pour apprendre à voler [3]
Category: Cardinal (TV 2017)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Bisexual Female Character, F/M, Future Fic, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 05:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14513493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtTanyaBoone/pseuds/LtTanyaBoone
Summary: Lise and John plus one. *sequel to 'les lendemains qui m'appellent', takes place well after the S2 finale*





	le bonheur dans nos soupirs

**Author's Note:**

> Additional content/trigger warnings for _pregnancy_ , _throwing up_. There's also a discussion of the lived experience of being not-straight.
> 
> I've added hovertext translations for some of Lise's dialogue. You can just hold your mouse over the underlined sentences and you'll get a little hovertext thingy that has the English translation in it. I haven't added it to every single word, just the stuff that I thought would be important to know.

"Hello, Lise."

"Hi," she returns his greeting as Josh sits down opposite of her at the table. Manages to resist the urge of pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands and instead cradles her mug of tea and pulls it a little closer.

"Uh, I'll have a coffee. Black," he orders when the waitress approaches them.

"You look..." he starts, his brows dipping when his eyes dart to her hand. She's not wearing the ring any more. Took it off about a week after he'd left, actually.

"I know," she sighs and gives a slight shake of her head. She knows she's pale. It's a combination, winter and her current nerves. John said it brings out her freckles. Lise thinks he was trying to cheer her up. It fell rather short of achieving that goal, she has to admit.

"Why am I here, Lise?" her ex-husband asks, and Lise swallows. Lifts her tea and takes a sip, hoping to steel her nerves.

She'd wanted to meet him on neutral ground. Thought that it would be better, than meeting at the house, or at his new place. Figured that, perhaps, given the public setting, it would prevent the two of them from going off on each other.

She's thought about this for a while. And now, there really is no reason left not to do it. Aside from her feeling a tad, queasy, about telling Josh about this.

"I am going to sell the house," she informs him. There. It's out, she's said it.

Josh's face falls. He lets out a harsh breath and leans back in his chair. Rubs his hands over his thighs and then shakes his head.

"So you're moving?" he asks and Lise gives him a look. "Right," he nods, an angry expression crossing his face.

They don't see each other, and they certainly don't talk about the lives the have, now. Lise suspects that he might know, about John and her. Is surprised, really, that he isn't asking about it. Isn't rubbing it in her face that he was right, those years ago, when he'd first thought John and her were having an affair. She wouldn't know what to say to him if he did, really. Because he hadn't been right. All she'd seen when she'd looked at John was a fellow police officers and a man she was coming to deeply respect. She'd been intrigued by him and impressed by his reputation (ignoring the nose-dive it had taken following Katie Pine's disappearance and his actions). He'd been married and so had she, and there honestly hadn't been the faintest idea in Lise's head that she might be attracted to him.

"I just," she starts and swallows thickly. "I wanted you to hear it from me," she tells him. "And I guess I, I wanted you to have a chance to, have it. If you want it, that is."

It's the truth. The one reason she wanted to do this. She feels like she owes him that, at least, given what she did to him.

Their divorce agreement says that the house is hers. It's not like Lise fought hard for it. She'd liked it, yes, but between the two of them, Josh had been more in love with it. She figured that the only reason he didn't argue against her having it was because he hadn't wanted the reminder, of their failed marriage. Unlike Lise, he'd never been a one for self-flagellation.

Josh blinks. Takes his coffee and sips on it, before he sets it down carefully.

"What's the asking price?" he asks her. "I mean, aside from my dignity," he adds, just as Lise opens her mouth to answer, and she closes her eyes, realizing she made a mistake.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes.

"Are you?" he snaps and leans forward. "What about, exactly? Lying to me? For months? Making me believe that we were in this relationship together?"

She feels her face harden at his words.

"I am terribly sorry," she presses out, "for forgetting not to interfere with your identity as the victim."

This was a mistake. She knows that know. Knows she underestimated how badly she hurt him, knows that she just reopened an old wound she'd figured would have healed by now. And she's sorry for that.

With a shake of her head, she grabs her wallet and puts down a twenty dollar bill, to pay for her tea and his coffee. Grabs her purse and jacket and leaves the diner, thankful that at least, it is still early enough in her pregnancy that she's not showing just yet.

She wouldn't have wanted him to see that and feel even more resentful towards her.

 

* * *

 

One of these days, she will kill Collingwood. It won't be hard, Lise thinks. She is, after all, still permitted to carry her gun.

She draws a breath and pulls a hand from the side of the sink. Presses it against her abdomen.

"Stop," she pleads and closes her eyes. Her stomach seems to settle, for a moment. Lise inhales and pulls a face. Opens her eyes and turns on the faucet to rinse out the sink and wash the taste of vomit from her mouth.

Just as she's reaching for the paper towels to dry her hands, her stomach lurches again, and she quickly turns as she begins to retch anew.

Next time, she will just vomit on Collingwood's shoes, she thinks, barely able to bite back a sob as her abdominal muscles scream at her in pain from the exertion.

When she's finally done and managed to clean herself up, it's been over half an hour. Great, Lise thinks, as she steps from the restroom and goes to return to her desk.

"Delorme," Szelagy calls her over with a wave of his hand, and Lise allows a sigh to escape her before she changes directions and goes over to his desk.

"Bad time in Ident?" he asks with a slight frown. Lise would shake her head, but she's afraid it might trigger another episode of The Spews.

"No," she lies, accepting the large manila envelope he hands her.

"Greetings from Toronto," he grins at her. She lifts an eyebrow at him and starts to open it while she sets out on her way back to her desk.

"Oh jeez," she mutters when she pulls out the content from the envelope. Dyson has her going over cold cases right now, while she looks for something else for her to do. Lise doesn't mind too badly. But she could have done without staring at the decapitated corpse of a dog not even ten minutes after her stomach finally quit revolting against Collingwood's show-and-tell.

She turns over the images and shoves them back inside the envelope, before putting that into her drawer.

Morning sickness, my ass, she thinks. She feels queasy all the time, but especially around noon. Which, much to her dismay, always collides with both her work, and her co-workers deciding to outdo each other in the department of Smelliest Food You Can Bring To Work.

"Excuse me," she mutters and grabs a notepad and one of the cold case files, before practically fleeing down to Dyson's office.

"Detective," the DS greets her, her brows furrowing when she catches sight of Lise's face. "Are you alright?"

"Would you mind," she asks and draws a shuddering breath, "if I worked in here? For a moment?"

Dyson's eyebrows nearly meet her hairline.

"The meeting room should be empty," she offers, and Lise swallows, hard.

"It is," she confirms. "That is, aside from whatever died in the wall," she adds. Dyson pulls a face at the reminder of the smell. Maintenance is on it, they have been assured. It is just taking some time to locate whatever critter managed to find its final resting place there.

"Come on in," the DS sighs and waves at her. Lise relaxes somewhat and steps inside. Puts the file down and her notepad, as well.

"Thank you," she mutters as she sits down and returns to her work. For a whole lot of five minutes, before she feels Dyson's gaze on her.

"Sir?" she prompts as she looks up.

"How are you?" the older woman asks her, sympathy in her dark eyes. Lise frowns and shakes her head.

"I'm fine," she declares. Dyson merely lifts an eyebrow at her and Lise lets a sigh escape her.

"It's..." she mutters and leans back in the chair. "It's not usually so bad," she allows. "I just had a bad, experience, down in Ident earlier, and now it's lunch hour, and that's just," she trails off with a shake of her head.

"Ah," Dyson nods. "I can see about getting you a different desk," she offers. "But I don't think that would help much, aside from getting you closer to the exit, maybe."

"It's okay," Lise shakes her head. "I'd prefer staying at mine," she declares. She actually likes her spot. It's a bit secluded, people don't usually waltz past. Plus, she is sitting across from John, which makes it more tolerable. The only thing that bothers her is McLeod's current fascination with Indian food. Lise really, really hopes that he will grow tired of it soon. Or that she'll outgrow The Spews, whichever comes first.

Dyson nods mutely and returns to her own work.

"Sorry, DS."

Lise looks up from her work at the sound of John's voice. He looks, worried.

"Mind if I steal Detective Delorme for a moment?"

"She's free to go whenever," Dyson declares. Lise inclines her head and stands, following him as he leads the way to the photocopy room.

"Something wrong?" she asks, and stops when he holds out her phone to her.

"You left that at your desk," he tells her. Lise shifts and takes it. Forces herself to keep a step of distance between them.

"Sorry," she apologizes. "I, may have fled."

"So Szelagy told me," John nods. "I was trying to call, see if you wanted me to get you some lunch."

"Not the l-word," Lise shakes her head, and watches as his face softens.

"That bad?" he asks, his voice low and gentle. She hesitates, then shakes her head. She's starting to feel better. It's close to two now, her stomach has finally stopped reminding her of all the poor food choices she's ever made in her life. Lise actually thinks that she could try and see if it'll allow her to have some crackers now.

"It's over now," she tells him. John reaches out and touches his hand to her upper arm. Gives it a soft squeeze and Lise closes her eyes as she rests her hand over his for a moment. "Are the guys finished with their lunch?" she asks and John nods.

"Yeah. I even got them to open the window, if only for a moment," he grins and Lise rolls her eyes.

"I'll grab my stuff from Dyson's office, then," she tells him. Turns, then pauses. "I'm sorry, for worrying you," she adds, and John waves her off. Tells her to get her stuff, he'll fix her some tea in the meantime. Lise wonders if she should remind him to please stay away from fennel, but then figures he'll remember, anyway. It was him, after all, who cleaned up after her when he'd made her a pot of that the other day.

 

* * *

 

John's touch is gentle, barely there as he slowly strokes his hand down her side. Trails it to her front, all the while staring at her face.

She looks down and watches the movement of his hand under her tank top. Feels him slow down in his ministrations, then backtrack, his brows creasing in concentration. She almost laughs at him then.

He could just ask. It's not intentional, that she's been wearing something to bed the past week or so. She'd just been feeling too warm, under the blankets, but without something on her skin, she doesn't like to pull them down. Feels much too exposed, sleeping in the nude without covers.

She reaches down and covers his hand through her shirt for a moment, stilling his movement. Then reaches down and lifts the hem, pushes it up until it barely reaches the underside of her breasts.

She hears John swallow thickly. He leans in and kisses her skin. Presses a careful kiss below her navel. At the barely-there bump.

She reaches down and runs her fingers through his hair in a tender caress. She tries to remember, the last time they've made love. It's been days, but this, this is important, too. She likes this. The easy intimacy, the soft gestures and affectionate touches. With everyone else, it had felt like, too much. It's made her want to pull away and hide. With him, it makes her want to lean into his touch and soak herself in it.

He's shaved his beard. He tends to do that, when winter gives way to spring and the temperatures begin to rise. It's good, maybe, Lise thinks, because she's not entirely sure she'd be able to stand the scratchy feeling on her skin right now. She's so sensitive all over, it makes her want to scream sometimes.

"Hey," he whispers, drawing her attention. Lise blinks slowly and looks at him, her heart melting at the softness in his eyes. "Would you mind," he starts and clears his throat. "Your scan, tomorrow. I'd like to come along."

Her eyes widen in surprise at his request. Then again, maybe it shouldn't surprise her. She had been the one to say that she wanted the first appointment to be without him. There is just something about knowing you'll end up with an ultrasound wand shoved up inside you that had made her not want him around. And if she's completely honest, she'd felt like it would have been easier, to deal with disappointing news, by herself. If the doctor had told her that there was something wrong, that she wasn't pregnant, then she'd have had some time, to come to terms with it herself, before having to relay the news to him. She would have been able to get a grip on her emotions before being forced to deal with his.

"Are you sure?" she asks, her voice low. Her doctor had said that there was the possibility of recording the scan, in addition of just printing out an image. She'd mentioned that, to him, too. Had told him that they could watch it at home, together, and even send it to Kelly, if he thought his daughter might like to see it.

"I want to be there with you," John replies. Shifts and reaches up to stroke her cheek. "I want to be a part of this."

Lise reaches up to cover his hand.

"You are," she tells him and leans over to capture his lips. "You think you can make it? The appointment is for half past three," she asks as she tilts her head. John hesitates, then nods.

"I'll make time for it," he says, and Lise lets out a soft sigh, though she doesn't argue with him.

"I'm tired," she declares, instead. It's only half past eight, but laying in bed with him like this, it's making it hard to ignore how exhausted she is. It's something she hates, about being pregnant: her low energy levels and how just dragging herself out of bed in the morning is a struggle. That, and The Spews. She really, really hates those.

John coined that phrase. He'd told her he was sorry, about her morning sickness, when she'd found herself with her head over the sink shortly before dinner, and she'd informed him that there was no 'morning' about it. His quip had made her laugh, and then let out a groan when the muscles in her stomach had protested. It's those moments, Lise thinks, when she loves him most. When he's so irrevocably there, so absolutely present.

She doesn't think she'd be doing this with anyone else but him at her side.

 

* * *

 

His cell phone is vibrating in his pocket.

Lise's doctor arches an eyebrow and she almost laughs out loud. Instead, she turns her head and watches John frown at the screen before he rejects the call.

"Do you have to take this?" she asks, her voice low. He swallows, then shakes his head.

"Just Arsenault," he tells her. "I asked him for an additional report. It's not urgent."

"Are you sure?" she presses. Because if it turns out that it was, she will kick herself over and over for distracting him. John casts another look at his phone, then puts it into his pocket.

"It's fine," he assures her.

"This will be cold," the doctor warns her, and Lise braces herself, but still flinches when the gel hits her skin.

He's been fifteen minutes late. She was about to tell the woman to just go ahead, make a recording, when he'd stuck his head into the door, looking sheepish and apologizing. She's not mad at him, for being late. Wouldn't have been mad if he hadn't been able to come, after all. But still, part of her is rather happy that he is here. That she doesn't have to do this alone.

"You okay?" he asks and searches her eyes. She nods and touches his cheek, biting back the reminder that he knows full well how cold ultrasound gel is.

"Okay, here we go," her doctor mutters and touches the wand to Lise's abdomen. She can't help herself, she sucks in a breath at the contact and holds it there until the image forms on the screen.

Her first ultrasound, to confirm her pregnancy and make sure that it is a uterine pregnancy, there's only been a grainy grey circle. Now Lise blinks at the image, shock making her eyes widen.

Perhaps she should have gone and googled some things, to better prepare herself.

It looks like an alien. And not even a cute one. Yet Lise feels overwhelmed by the sudden affection that floods her at the sight.

"Fetal length at," the doctor mutters, "2.4 centimeters."

"Is that good?" John asks, a nervous edge to his voice.

The doctor looks at him, and her face softens.

"Yes," she nods, and begins to point out features. "This is the head," she declares and moves the cursor around on the screen. "Arms," she continues and Lise feels her heart skip a beat when it looks like the, It, moves Its head. "And legs," she adds. "He's waving," she says, after a pause, and Lise thinks she will combust.

"He?"

Her voice is a squeak, and she feels herself flush with embarrassment.

"Sorry," her doctor frowns. "Force of habit," she apologizes. "It's too early to tell. Sex is already determined, of course, and at this stage the genitals are starting to form, but it's not possible to tell just yet what they are. Not via ultrasound, that is," she explains. Watches Lise's face for a moment before she reaches over for her file.

"I know we have talked about not using a certain word," she continues, "but I'm not certain if-"

"Fetus is fine," Lise tells her. Swallows, thickly. "I think I'm okay with pronouns, too," she adds, casting a questioning look at John. Who swallows, then nods.

"Yeah," he murmurs. Lise feels him take her hand and watches as he pulls it over to press a kiss to her knuckles, moisture shining in his eyes. "Sorry," he apologizes. "It's, been a while."

Lise furrows her brows and searches his face. "You ever see Kelly, on an ultrasound?"

"Not, like this," he shakes his head. "Just the pictures, after."

Ah, so that explains him wanting so badly to be there with her right now.

"Fetus looks healthy," Lise's doctor continues. "No abnormalities that I can detect," she adds, taking a few more measurements and scrolling around.

"His heart's beating so fast," John whispers, and something about the pronoun makes Lise tense up. Perhaps she was wrong to judge, there.

"That's perfectly normal," her doctor smiles. "Lise's is a bit accelerated. Fetal heart rate is around twice the one of the mother."

_Mother._

"Hey," John whispers when she closes her eyes. "Lise, hey," he murmurs and she feels him touch her cheek and wipe at the tears that spill from her eyes. She reaches up and hides her face for a moment.

"It's okay," her doctor mutters and Lise feels the pressure of the wand leave her abdomen. "It's alright, take a moment. It can be a lot to process."

Lise draws a shuddering breath and nods mutely.

"Do you want to sit up?" her doctor asks and she feels herself nod again. Feels a hand on her arm and one on the opposite leg, gently guiding her in a sitting position.

"Deep breaths. It's okay, Lise."

She needs a new doctor, Lise suddenly thinks. Not because this is embarrassing, but because she realizes with mortification that she has no idea how to explain in English what's going on inside her right now.

"You may want to," she hears her doctor say, and then feels John's hands on her shoulders. Hears him move and she leans forward, touching her head against his chest as he holds her.

"It's okay," he whispers and strokes her head gently, and she lets out a soft, teary laugh, because he sounds so utterly confused.

She needs a few more moments to calm down. Even then, she has no idea how to explain why that word just hit her so hard, and so unexpectedly. Maybe it's just because it's the first time anyone's ever referred to her as a mother. Maybe it's the combination, of seeing the b- fetus, and being called mother. Lise doesn't know, but she is thankful that she scheduled this appointment at the end of her workday, instead of attempting to go in the morning and go to work after.

"I'm alright," she mutters finally. Her doctor watches her, searches her face carefully.

"I'd like to take a few more measurements, if that's alright with you," she says and Lise nods, laying back down. It's good, to see the, fetus, again. They're still there, still fine. Lise lets out a slow breath and slowly relaxes.

When they are done and on their way out, she holds onto John's hand tightly.

"I know you want to talk," she tells him when they are approaching her car, "but I need some time. It's, a lot," she frowns with a slight shake of her head. "Not, bad, just, a lot," she adds at his worried look.

"Are you okay to drive?" he asks her, searching her face. "We can just take my car, and I'll pick up yours later," he offers, and Lise slowly shakes her head no.

"I'm okay," she insists. At his doubtful expression, Lise allows a sigh to escape her, then gets out her keys and holds them out to him. "My car," she declares, unwilling to leave it at the parking lot. If he wants to be the one to drive, he'll have to go back for his own car later, she decides.

 

* * *

 

"Our briefing room," Szelagy says. "And our very own Detective Delorme," he adds and Lise waves at him for a moment.

"Detective Larren," the redheaded woman next to him introduces herself. "People call me Joann."

"Lise," she replies, an easy smile on her face. "You're our new hire?"

"I wouldn't call it new," Larren furrows her brows slightly. "I started out here. And then moved to Montreal, for a bit, but now I'm back."

"Ah," Lise nods. She seems to be around Lise's own age, maybe slightly older. She knew Dyson was looking for an addition to CID, to replace Lise. She hadn't known that their new colleague would also be a woman, and it makes her strangely happy. Being the only woman in CID can be a lonely lonely place to be.

"Hey, do you know where McLeod went?" she turns to Szelagy. "He said he was just going to grab a coffee, but it's been a while."

"I think he bailed on you," Szelagy replies, ducking his head a little. Lise raises her eyebrows at him in surprise. "Beginning of our tour," he adds, motioning between himself and Larren, "he passed us on his way out. Badge and holster."

"Great," Lise shakes her head. "Not like this is his case," she mutters and closes the file in front of her with no small amount of frustration. Dyson's put her on this. Said McLeod might need an extra pair of hands. He has to do all the field work, himself, Lise understands that, but it would have been nice for him to just tell her he was heading out. She wouldn't have stayed in the conference room if she'd known he wasn't coming back, much preferring her own working space and the structured chaos around that.

She stands and begins to gather her things, when she feels the blood rush from her head. Takes a staggering step to the side before she catches herself.

"Woah," Szelagy exclaims and Lise feels his arm around her as she sinks back into her chair.

"Ah shit," she breathes and closes her eyes, the room spinning. She hears the sound of a window being opened, feels the cooler air seeping in.

"Need a bin?" Szelagy asks and Lise's lips curl into a smile. She tries shaking her head, but it only makes the vertigo worse, causing her to reach up and pinch the bridge of her nose.

"It's fine," she breathes. It's not the first time this has happened. Actually, it's the reason why she kept close to the table in the first place, to have something to catch herself on. Her body's done this before. She just needs a moment, and it'll be over.

"I'm okay," she declares when she feels the light sensation leave her. Szelagy gives her a worried look as Lise stands again, more slowly this time. She gives him a smile and touches his arm in thanks.

She has to tell him she's fine two more times, before he finally takes Larren and goes on his way. Lise finds herself shaking her head at him. He's nice, he really is, but sometimes, he can be even worse than John. Speaking of which, she's pretty sure Szelagy is going to tell him about this. It's like these days, she can't even sneeze, without someone in CID telling Cardinal about it.

 

* * *

 

Lise leans back in her chair, staring at John. She can feel the anger welling up inside of her, the frustration. Ten minutes ago, he dropped the bombshell on her that they have to move, and now he's dodging all her questions, and she's getting the impression that he doesn't want to talk about this, at all. And it's making her rather angry.

This isn't just his life, it's hers, as well, and she deserves a word in where they live. Deserves an explanation as to why he suddenly wants to move, why this feels so much like an order and not a suggestion.

"Is it because of Catherine?" she asks, finally. The question she's worked up to, for a few moments now. Because this, this is the only thing that makes sense, as a reason. That he doesn't want to live in the house he used to share with his late wife when Lise is having a baby. That it's too much, too painful, for him.

"It's not that," he shakes his head. Lise frowns and says to hell with it and takes his glass of wine to have a sip. No alcohol, no cigarettes, and she'd kill for either, right now. It's just a sip, the only one she's had since finding out.

"Then explain this to me," she presses.

Selling her house, that makes sense. They're not using it, anyway, and Lise doesn't have any attachment to it. She can count on one hand the number of times she's been there the past three months.

But John's place? They live here. They spend their days off from work here. It just doesn't make any sense to her, as to why he suddenly wants to move.

He looks down at his empty dinner plate, before he gets up and starts to clear the table.

"I'm not finished with this conversation," Lise insists, her ire rising even more.

The thought that it has to do with Catherine, it makes her heart constrict. Makes her think that they were stupid, that they rushed into this without considering what it would mean. Makes her think that he cannot deal with having her be here, pregnant with his child, when this is the house he used to live in with his dead wife. That he's starting to change his mind, starting to regret that they're doing this.

"I know," he nods, yet continues on his way to the kitchen. When he turns back around and sees her expression, his softens. "You were starting to look queasy," he tells her and Lise wants to scream.

"I don't need you," she presses out, "to do this. I can take care of myself, you know."

It's too much to handle. Especially when she's so angry with him, right now. His hovering at times can be a bit, much, but she gets it. Strangely feels very much the same, about him. She loves him, she wants to protect him. But when she's pissed with him, having him act like nothing's wrong and still be like, this, it just antagonizes her further.

John blinks at her. Straightens, pulls himself up to his full height.

"I know," he replies, eyes darting from her face, down to her middle, currently obscured by the table.

Involuntarily, Lise reaches out and touches a hand to her abdomen. And curses herself for it at the next moment.

"Just," she exhales and gets up. "Explain this to me," she pleads, searching his face. "Because this, this isn't making any sense, right now."

John swallows thickly. Looks away for a moment, his jaw tight.

"Postcard," he finally says. Lise frowns in confusion, and he lets out a sigh. "Got a postcard, from a guy. Put him away couple years back, did a series of B&Es."

"You want to sell your house because a burglar sent you a postcard?" she repeats, still utterly lost.

"Some time ago, some news station ran a segment on missing kids. It was in the midst of the Katie Pine thing. My name, and house, ended up on that segment."

Lise feels her face soften as realization begins to dawn on her.

"You want to move," she says, "because you don't think it's safe, here."

He gives a shrug. Reaches out for her and takes her hand, pressing their palms together.

"It's, different, now," he hedges. "When it was just us, it was..." he hesitates, frowning in thought. "Kelly doesn't live here anymore. Catherine's gone. I love you, I want to protect you, but I know you can handle yourself. But someone finds my address now, shows up here..." he says and Lise swallows at the fear in his eyes.

"We're fine," she tells him. Steps closer and takes his hand, to rest it against her abdomen.

"I know," John nods, still looking down. Swallows thickly. "But, a new house. Fresh start," he mutters. Lise lets out a soft sigh.

"It's also," he adds and looks up at her face again. "I know she said it was fine. But, Kelly's room, it's..." he trails off. "I want her to have a room, when she comes to stay with us."

He's right, there. Lise knows it. And she wants that, too. She wants Kelly to feel like she has a place, with them. She likes her, and she's John's daughter. She'd never dream of doing something that might push her from her father's life. But the house on Madonna Road is small. The only room they really have, to convert into a nursery, is Kelly's. And Lise hates the thought of that. Of removing the trace of one child to make room for another. It sits wrong with her.

She takes a deep breath, trying to sort out her feelings. The thought of her needing protection makes her bristle. But when she thinks about it, thinks about what could happen, a year from now. Some suspect finding their address, coming here, when their child lives here-

Lise gives a sharp shake of her head.

"I don't want to move," she tells him with a frown. "Everything is changing so much, right now. It feels like it would be too much," she admits. "But I understand what you're saying. And I agree with you. This might not be save. Just, give me a few days, to, adjust to it. Let the thought sink in."

"Okay," he nods, his voice low and soft. Lise searches his face, then reaches out to wrap her arms around his neck. John bows his head, leans forward to rest his forehead against hers.

"I love you," he murmurs softly.

"Nous t'aimons," she replies. It makes him leans back, watch her with bright eyes. Lise just smiles and leans up to brush her lips over his for a moment.

"I'm sorry," John apologizes. "For, dropping this on you, like that."

Her brows drip slightly and Lise swallows.

"I'm not going to lie, you pissed me off," she admits and sees him incline his head.

"I could tell," he murmurs. "I, guess I thought I was making sense, without having to explain where I was coming from. I honestly didn't mean to upset you, or make you angry."

"I know," she nods. Touches his cheek and lets her hand linger for a moment.

 

* * *

 

It's always different, when it's a child.

Lise swallows and gives a slight shake of her head, focussing again on the map spread out on the table. It's divided into grids, numbers drawn into them. Her eyes flicker to the clock on the wall, counting the numbers. Counting down their chance of finding Ella.

"Charlie sector complete," the radio on the table declares. "No trace."

Lise closes her eyes. Takes a marker and crosses out that sector. Tries not to think of the little girl. How terrified she must be, how scared.

"Team Zero Two, move to David sector," Dyson speaks into the receiver. Lise looks up at the woman. Sees the thought as if the words were written plainly on her face. Katie Pine all over again. A little girl goes missing, vanished without a trace.

At least it's still early. They got this one early on, only four hours after the kid was last seen. It's been eleven hours now. They're all out looking for her, searching for her.

"Trail camp," the radio chimes. "Team Three One made contact, no sign at the cave at the waterfall, nothing on the trail. Making their way back to camp now."

John's on that team. She'd almost asked Dyson to put him on another. The cave, the abandoned camp, they don't carry good memories. Lise doesn't have nightmares often, but when she does, the cave often features prominently in them.

"Received," Dyson mutters. Leans over the map, looking for landmarks, looking for anything that might stand out. A place where a little child might go, on her own. Or where someone may take her, to be alone with her.

It's not making any sense. This isn't the kind of child who would just wander off. No one saw her with anyone besides her older brother. She's a shy girl, who doesn't like strangers, doesn't trust them.

"Fils de-" Lise mutters and cuts herself off. Grabs her notepad, the hasty scribbles on it going every which direction. She was pacing, earlier, when information came in, and just went and wrote it down.

"Delorme?" Dyson asks as Lise grabs the file, flipping through it. "What is it?"

"Ella's brother. He's on the swim team," Lise says, her eyes scanning the pages.

"So?" Dyson frowns. "We've searched the pool, the locker rooms, all of it. Twice."

"Je sais," Lise nods, her mind working. "Oú est-ce?" she mutters. "Il y a des-" she begins and closes her eyes for a second. English, Lise. English. Focus.

"Years ago, the swim team used other facilities."

"The ones on Mill's Drive, yes. They're closed down," Dyson reminds her.

"To the public, yes," Lise nods, finally finding the list. "The building still exists. It's, ah merde, regardez ça," she gives a sharp shake of her head, throwing the file across the desk and pointing at it.

__Maintained by Wensley Holding._ _

"Make this make sense, Delorme," Dyson presses and Lise wants to scream.

"The father, he's a facility manager, for the same company."

"He's been at work the whole time, before we brought him here. There are at least three witnesses for his whereabouts the whole time," the DS shakes her head, brows furrowing.

"Mais le fils a pas de témoins," Lise argues. "Il a eu," she starts and draws a breath. "He had access. His father's keys, he knows the location. It's at the edge of town, out of the way," she explains, her eyes pleading. "She wouldn't go with a stranger. Mais c'est pas un outsider. C'est son frère," she breathes. Dyson's eyes widen slightly in silent horror. She grabs the radio, her eyes flickering over the map.

"Team Four Five," she calls, "stop whatever you are doing, head for the old swimming facilities on Mill's Drive."

Lise nods at her and steps from the room, motioning towards a constable.

"We need to separate them," she tells the uniformed officer. "The boy needs to be isolated from the parents, right now."

"Roger that," the guy nods and walks over to where the parents and their son sit. Lise crosses her arms and watches them, a chill running down her spine.

She wants to be right, and wrong, at the same time. And if she is right, she hopes, prays, that they were quick enough.

Lise turns away from the family and returns to the conference room, where Dyson is clutching the radio, pacing.

"How did we miss that?" she asks, searching Lise's face.

"He's a child," she offers. A thirteen year old boy. A teenager.

Lise thinks back, and shudders. There's been something, about Charlie, that had made her uncomfortable when she'd watched him. He'd looked up and met her gaze, and she'd felt like crawling out of her skin. She'd just thought that it was the stress of the situation, of racing against the clock, of attempting to find a missing girl in a town surrounded by woods.

It takes another hour, until there's anything new. Reports come in, teams making it to the old pool, reporting their whereabouts. Others calling in, confirming the search of their sectors. No trace of Ella anywhere.

"Team Three One on location," Larren's voice chimes from the radio. "Detectives John Cardinal and Jennifer Larren entering the building."

Lise swallows thickly. Stares at the radio, willing it to report again. There are short reports, different locations in the facility getting reported as empty and clear. They have a blueprint now, Lise crosses off rooms as they go.

"We got her."

She looks up sharply at the radio. Dyson blinks. Takes a moment to move.

"Come again?" she asks, once she's taken it.

"Constable Flower for Precinct," a female voice carries over the speaker. "Found a girl, about five years old, matching description to the missing child," she says. A pause. "Child's alive."

Lise leans forward. Braces her elbows on the table and hides her face in her hands, tears of relief flooding her eyes.

"Received," Dyson mutters. Clears her throat. "Good job, everyone. All teams, head back. Precinct out."

She decides to stay. To wait, for John. He has to come to the precinct first, before going home. He's still in an unmarked, and Larren's got to sign herself out, as well.

"Hey," she greets the two when they come in. Larren looks a bit shaken, as she sinks down into the nearest chair. To her surprise, John strides over and wraps his arms around Lise, pulling her into a bear hug.

"Ah," she whispers. "Sh, it's alright," she murmurs when she feels him shudder against her. Runs a hand through his hair gently. "Je t'aime," she whispers softly. He lets out a shuddering breath and then loosens his hold on her. Carefully lets him go and leans back. Lise smiles at him. Inclines her head slightly. It's okay, she gets it.

Lise reaches out and takes his hand, holding onto it. John's lips move into a brief smile. Then he tilts his head, nodding in Larren's direction. Lise looks over and watches the other woman for a moment.

"Hey, Larren," she says. Watches, as the woman startles, then looks at her in slight confusion.

"Want to come over, for dinner?" Lise offers.

Larren swallows, then slowly shakes her head no.

"No," she answers. "I think I, I'll just, go home."

Lise shifts a little as John turns.

"We'll drop you off," he tells Larren, his voice leaving no room for argument. Lise watches as the other woman shifts, a look of relief washing over her face before she inclines her head.

"Thanks," she mutters as she stands, getting her things.

"You're welcome," Lise nods and touches her arm briefly as they start heading out.

 

* * *

 

"She did it again?" Lise asks when she gets home from the appointment and finds John scrubbing at a stain on the couch. He looks up at her and raises an eyebrow.

"No," he deadpans and gets up from the floor. "I just like the way pink rubber gloves look on my hands."

Lise rolls her eyes and sets down her purse, looking for the cat. Apparently, Moose has decided that it would be wise, not to stick around.

This is the third time the cat's peed on the couch, since they moved three weeks ago. It's also the third time that Lise came home after John. Unsurprisingly, both event always coincide.

"She did this before, or after you got home?" she asks after he kisses her cheek, having taken the gloves off.

"After," he confirms. Lise lets out a soft sigh. She'd call for the cat, but she knows Moose will come out in a couple of moments, anyway. Once she hears her talk, she shows up. Goes and rubs herself against Lise and then tries to climb up on her.

"You know," John sighs, "I figured it would be an adjustment," he says. "But I didn't think we'd have to deal with temper tantrums from the bloody cat on top of it."

Lise feels her hackles rise at his words.

"She's overwhelmed," she defends the pet. Between the two of them, Moose likes John, but she adores Lise. She'll follow her practically everywhere, something that's gotten even worse the further Lise's pregnancy progresses. She can barely sit down without having the cat clamoring to be in her lap. She's constantly asking for her attention, curling up next to her, bobbing her hand, trying to slip under Lise's arm. It's, exhausting. The peeing, Lise thinks, isn't a tantrum. She's starting to think the cat is scared. She's realizing that things are changing, and it's nothing she understands. Well, she might understand that Lise is pregnant. She's not sure about it. The cat's definitely noticed her belly, but so far, Lise hasn't been able to feel any movements from the fetus, and consequently, neither have John or Moose.

"Speak of the devil," John mutters at the sound of claws on the flooring. Moose jumps up onto the sideboard and sneaks closer, keeping a wary eye on him. He's probably yelled at her, earlier. Lise can understand the frustration, but honestly, shouting at the cat isn't going to fix this.

"Have you been a little monster?" she asks her and holds out her hand. Moose walks over and rubs her face against her fingers, a soft purr sounding when Lise starts scratching her chin. She lets out a sigh and picks up the cat. Kisses her head and holds her close for a moment. Moose lets out a chirp, leaning in John's direction. He lets out an exaggerated sigh, but scratches her head still.

"Thank you," Lise whispers and sets down the cat. "Maybe we should put up another litter tray," she suggests. Perhaps it's just that Moose curls up on the couch while waiting for her, and then doesn't want to leave, in case Lise comes back.

"Maybe," John allows, reaching out to slip his hand beneath her shirt. Lise shifts and bumps her hip against his.

"So, what did your doc want?" he asks her. He's aiming for casual, but Lise doesn't miss the slight note of worry in his voice. She gives him a soft look, then goes through her purse, pulling out some papers.

"She wanted to talk about possible screening," she answers, heading for the kitchen to get herself something to drink. John follows, his focus on the information brochures.

"Chromosomal abnormalities?"

"Down Syndrome," Lise nods. "Amongst others," she frowns as she grabs a glass of water and takes a sip. He's silent as he reads over the information, processing it.

"That sounds..." he mutters after a while and looks up at her, a note of fear in his eyes.

"Yes," Lise nods in agreement. The prospect of having someone stick a needle into her belly and draw up amniotic fluid... Just the thought makes her shudder.

"You want to do it?" he asks, searching her face. Lise swallows thickly and rests her hands on her expanding belly.

"I don't know," she admits as she leans back against the counter, stroking over the material of her shirt. "I know the risk is small, but there is a risk," she sighs, reaching up with one hand to brush her hair behind her ear. John reaches out and covers the one that's still on her belly with his own, a thoughtful expression on his face. "And it's not like the results would change anything, would they?" Lise asks, her voice soft.

"What do you mean?" he inquires, setting the papers aside.

"I mean," Lise swallows, "that I don't think it would change my mind. About having, it."

John watches her. Searches her face intently, his eyes soft.

"It might be good," he offers. "To know, I mean. Beforehand, before they're born."

"I don't know," Lise replies. "I mean, if we are talking about a severe disability, probably, yes. It would be good to know about it, so we can prepare," she allows. "But... There are abnormalities, that would mean that they're, they're going to die. Soon, after being born. And I don't see how knowing about this, beforehand, would make it any better."

She sees him swallows thickly. John moves and steps closer. Lets go of her hand and reaches up to carefully cradle Lise's face. He looks into her eyes for a long moment, then leans in, to brush his lips over Lise's forehead.

"I love you," he murmurs and Lise nods mutely. Holds onto his arms for a moment, just savoring his presence, his strength.

"Je t'aime," she replies, her voice soft, relaxing slightly.

 

* * *

 

"He's so big," John breathes, staring at the screen with wide eyes. Lise almost lets out a laugh at his words, but she doesn't want to break his spell. He looks absolutely mesmerized as he watches the fetus move around on the screen.

"He's grown quite a bit," Lise's doctor nods. "Before we continue with this, I just have to make sure," she says. "Do you two want to find out the sex?"

Lise swallows and then looks at John, hesitating.

"Maybe?" she offers, her voice low. He looks at her, searching her face. "With Kelly, you didn't know, did you?"

"No," he shakes his head. "She was pretty shy," he shrugs, and Lise lets out a soft chuckle. "Your call," he tells her. "I'm fine with either."

She has her mouth open to say she doesn't want to know, but something stops her. She frowns, her brows knitting together. It's all still so, hypothetical. It feels like her pregnancy, like it's all about, potential. Which yes, she understands that there are some things they can't possibly know for sure. But at the same time, it's still not, not real. She hasn't felt any movements, despite now being able to see how much the fetus squirms on the screen.

"I want to know," she decides. It will make this more real. It will give her something tangible to hold onto.

John's brows raise briefly in quiet surprise, and then his lips tug into a soft smile.

"Okay," he nods and strokes her hair back from Lise's forehead.

"I'll still warn you, when we get to that area," the doctor tells her. "Just in case you change your mind. And it might be that we don't see anything," she adds as she turns to the screen.

John's right. The fetus looks huge, compared to the tiny thing it was. And what is more, it actually looks like a human being, now.

"Is that..." Lise frowns at the screen as she watches, fascinated, how the fetus moves.

"Hiccups," her doctor nods, a smile in her voice. "Not to freak you out," she adds, casting a glance at Lise, "but a fetus can also smile. And cry. Though you wouldn't be able to hear the latter."

Lise swallows hard at the words. She knew, about the smiling. The crying is new. It's a strange sensation, this tugging she feels on her heartstrings at the thought of their child crying and her being unable to console them.

"They also get startled," the doctor continues. "Once you start to feel movements, don't be alarmed when you experience a strong movement following a loud sound, or an abrupt movement of your own."

"Really?" John asks, frowning. He looks sceptical, and Lise can't blame him.

"Think of it as sleeping in a car that suddenly hits a speed bump," the doctor explains. "Lise moves and the baby gets jostled."

"So no jumping jacks," she quips, drawing a chuckle from the doctor. They had a longer conversation, at the beginning of her pregnancy, about the kind of exercise that would be save for her. She's long ago stopped boxing against others, even before finding out she'd gotten pregnant. Too worried that it would cause a miscarriage while they were still trying.

"So, ready for the show?" the doctor asks, zooming in a little on the image and going lower on the body of the fetus. Lise swallows and frowns in concentration.

"Ah, spoilsport," the other woman sighs after a moment, when it's clear that the legs are obstructing the view. "I'll take some measurements, then see if I can get a different angle," she tells them. Lise nods, her eyes watching the screen. It's fascinating to watch. Just seeing their child move around, it makes it hard to understand just why she isn't feeling it, yet. They're basically dancing around, and Lise has no idea, unless she's watching the monitor.

"Hey," John murmurs and Lise turns her head to look at him.

"Hm?" she sounds, and he gives her a soft look.

"So, if we know," he asks, his voice low. "Would you be okay, with the b- or g-word?"

"What?" Lise frowns at him, confused.

"Garçon," John tries, and Lise is thankful for his accent. It softens the blow a little, the strange sound lessening the impact the word had. "Or-"

"Please don't," Lise shakes her head quickly, before he can say what she thinks he's about to. His eyebrows lift for a fraction of a second, and there's a flash of disappointment in his eyes, before it dims.

"Okay," he nods. "That does answer the question."

"I'm sorry," she apologizes. "I can't explain it," she adds. "I know it's, stupid, and ridiculous-"

"It's alright," he shakes his head, the back of his hand stroking her cheek in a soft caress. "I just don't want to upset you."

"Speaking of upsetting," the doctor mutters and Lise feels her heart drop.

"What is it?" she breathes, panic rising.

"Easy, Lise," her doctor says and gives a shake of her head. "Everything's fine," she tells her. "I just found an angle," she adds. "You sure you want to know?"

"Yes," she nods. Even if the thought frightens her, even if hearing anyone call the child something other than fetus makes panic bubble inside of her, she wants to know.

"Okay," her doctor nods and moves the wand. Zooms in a little, a look of concentration on her face. Lise tries to figure out what they are looking at, tries to make sense of the grainy grey image on the screen. And then John tenses a little next to her, and the next moment, it hits Lise.

"Well," her doctor says with a soft laugh, "at least he's not shy about that."

 _ _A boy.__ They're having a little boy.

"Ah, merde," she whispers and reaches up to wipe the tears from the corner of her eyes. Looks over when she sees John's hand move and finds him doing the same, his eyes filling with tears. She reaches out and touches her hand to his cheek, a soft, teary laugh leaving her.

 

* * *

 

John's eyes widen in surprise. He stares at her, his mouth opening.

"Um," he starts, and clears his throat. Lise looks up at him, confusion making her knit her brows. "You, just said..." he trails off, motioning towards her.

Lise frowns as she tries to remember what it was exactly she'd just told him. They've been looking at furniture online. She likes the wood look, but thinks she'd still prefer white furniture. Something about the dark wood just seems, oppressive, to her, in a nursery.

__I'd like a changing table for the baby._ _

"Oh," she mutters.

She's used it, before. In her own head. Since the last ultrasound, the word had kept creeping up on her. At first, it had made her draw a slow breath whenever it happened. But now it's happening so frequently that it doesn't even make her pause any more.

"So," John searches her face, and Lise finds herself melting at his hopeful expression.

"I'm fine," she tells him. "It's, strange," she allows, "but a good strange," she continues. Watches him with slight worry.

"Do you want to say it?" she asks carefully. John swallows and reaches out to rest his hand against her belly. Lise reaches out and moves it a little.

She's been having these soft flutters, sometimes. Nothing clear and defined. A little like fizzy drinks feel, when they go down your throat, just a lot lower than that. Like little excited bubbles squirming around inside her.

"We're having, a baby," he mutters, and Lise feels her breath catch at the sound of the word, at the emotion in his voice.

"It's okay," she quickly assures him. "You can say it again," she nods. "As much as you'd like to. Need to," she adds, knowing that it's been hard for him, sometimes, to curb his excitement and remember. She knows he's used the word, with Kelly. After the two had talked, Lise had heard John catch himself afterwards, the word nearly slipping out.

"Hey baby," he says and lets out a soft chuckle when he pokes her belly. She gives his hand a squeeze and shakes her head at his antics.

"Don't be a jerk to him," she warns, the pronoun making her voice catch a little. __Him.__ "I don't want our son to be upset with you."

John freezes at her words. It makes her reach out and touch his cheek gently.

"Sh," she whispers and moves a little. "Come here," Lise tells him and wraps her arms around John, to hug him and hold him close. He come willingly and she feels his face turn into her neck. Is surprised by the wetness she feels at the contact.

"Hey," she murmurs. "John," she calls his name and leans back. Looks into his eyes as her heart feels like it's about to burst with excitement. "Nous aurons un fils," she tells him. Leans in to brush her lips over his in a gentle caress. "Un petit garçon, John."

"A, little boy," he repeats in English, his eyes filled with love and wonder.

 

* * *

 

"Are you allergic?" Lise belatedly thinks to ask.

Larren looks from the cat to her and swallows, before slowly shaking her head no.

"No," she mutters, casting another weary glance at Moose. "Just, not a, fan," she haltingly adds. Moose flicks her tail and Lise thinks she actually sees the other woman jump.

"Do you mind if I sit over there?" Larren asks and points to the armchair. Lise raises her eyebrows briefly before she shakes her head no.

"Go ahead," she tells her and watches as Larren hurries over, from her previous perch on the couch.

Moose lets out a soft meow and immediately comes trotting over. Jumps up on the couch and rubs herself against Lise.

"Brat," she whispers to the cat and scratches her head. Lifts her back a little when Moose moves forward, getting ready to jump onto the table between the couch and armchair. Lise has the sudden thought that if she did, Larren might bolt. As it is, the other woman is watching the cat with wide eyes, a note of panic in them.

She's never really met anyone who was afraid of cats. Plenty of people don't particularly like them, but the longer that Lise watches Larren, the more she thinks that the other woman is actually terrified.

"I got bitten," Larren volunteers, when she catches Lise watching her. "As a kid. I was pretty young. It hurt like a b-" she cuts herself off.

"She hasn't bitten John or me," Lise offers softly. The cat purrs and lifts her head up to rub against the underside of Lise's jaw. "She's actually a stray. One day she just, sat on John's porch, and refused to leave again. She kind of adopted us."

Larren swallows and tries a smile. It comes out as a grimace.

"I can put her in the bedroom," she offers. To her surprise, Larren slowly shakes her head.

"No, it's okay," she tells her. "If I know where she is, it's alright. She's not going to, lunge at me, is she?"

"No," Lise shakes her head with some amusement. "Her name, is Moose," she supplies. Larren inclines her head briefly in acknowledgement.

"In Montreal," she says, her brows furrowing, "back when I was a Constable, we had a call to some apartment. Noise complaint, neighbor said the TV had been on for hours and hours. We opened up the door, and the stench nearly floored me."

Lise cringes at the thought. Decomposing bodies are never fun.

"Young guy, around twenty-five," Larren says. Reaches up and motions to the right side of her face. "Half his face was, gone."

"Gunshot?" Lise guesses.

"No," Larren shakes her head. "Natural causes, actually. He had a heart condition."

"Then..."

"He had a cat," the other woman replies, her eyes fixed on Moose. "Thing hadn't gotten fed for two days. It got hungry."

"Ah merde," Lise breathes and looks down at Moose, who's rolling around on her back next to Lise, looking up at her.

"You like dogs?" she asks Larren.

"Depends," the other woman tilts her head. "Those little, yappy ones, no. The others are alright, I guess. I'm more of a, reptiles and amphibians, kind of gal."

"Oh?"

"Snakes are cool," Larren says. "I know some people hate them, get freaked out by them. I think they're fascinating. I like lizards, too, especially leopard geckos. Also, do you know what an axolotl is?"

"Isn't that," Lise frowns, thinking, "one of those things?" she asks, unhelpfully. "The ones that look like they have algae growing out of their faces?"

To her surprise, Larren actually laughs at that.

"That's," she chuckles, "actually a pretty good description." She pulls out her cell phone. "Cleopatra," she says and shows Lise the screen featuring a dark axolotl. "And Gus. He's, special," Larren laughs as Lise tilts her head when she flicks to another image, showing a white axolotl biting down on what clearly is a fake plant.

"Kind of cute," Lise admits and Larren pulls back her phone.

"Friend of mine in Montreal had to move and didn't have room for their tank any more. They're pretty funny," she tells her.

"Sorry about that," John apologizes when he returns, a folder in his hands. He holds it out to Larren, who takes it and flicks through the pictures in it slowly. Lise watches as he puts his hands into his pockets, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I know it's not a lot, but that's all I could find, at the moment."

"No, that's fine," Larren shakes her head. "It's more than I used to have, anyway. It's just," she sighs and casts a glance between John and Lise. "Why assign a decades old cold case to someone who's barely able to find her way around in this town?"

"Because you're not from here," Lise tells her. "You look at things differently. When Peters came in the other day, you sat there, you listened, you took his statement, he went on his way. Any one else would have asked him about his sobriety, how he's doing, if he may have had a run in with a bottle of whiskey the night he allegedly saw that burglar. Sometimes it helps to know the history of the people here. Other times, it makes staying objective difficult."

"He's a drunk?" Larren asks, her eyes widening.

"Used to be," John nods. "Every couple of days, uniforms would pick him up for D&D, put him in one of our cells to sleep it off."

"My only eyewitness in a B&E where nothing was stolen, is the town drunk," the other woman sighs with a shake of her head.

"The point is," Lise insists, "that he's not. He cleaned up his act months ago. Algonquin Bay is slow to forget. Sometimes, we are, too."

Larren lets out a slow breath and looks down at the pictures again. "Mind if I take these?"

"Go ahead," John shakes his head. "I'll have a look later, see if I can find the negatives."

"Thanks," Larren nods and slowly stands. She pauses, tilting her head slightly. "Would you mind, if I came over again, some day?" she asks, turning to Lise. "Work on, that," she adds, pointing at Moose.

"Not at all," Lise shakes her head.

"Not any time soon," Larren quickly adds with a shake of her head. "But, at some point, maybe..."

"She's not going anywhere," Lise smiles. Watches, as John shakes Larren's hand and then disappears briefly with the other woman, to walk her out. When he returns, his brows are furrowed slightly.

"I feel like I am missing something," he declares, giving her an expectant look.

"She's afraid of cats," Lise explains, drawing a soft 'ah' from him.

"Exposure therapy. With our cat," he frowns.

"I think it might be good," Lise offers. "She's the only other female in CID besides Dyson. We don't talk a lot during work, but I like her."

John searches her face for a moment, and Lise finds herself frowning.

"Oh, no," she shakes her head. "No," she repeats. "She is nice, yes, but not my type."

"What is, your type?" he asks and Lise almost laughs then.

"Right now? You," she informs him and gives a tug on his hand to pull him closer.

 

* * *

 

"Delorme," Dyson calls her name and Lise looks up, a little confused.

"Yes, DS?"

"Congratulations," her DS says as she walks over and hands Lise a letter. "You're in court the next few weeks."

"What?" she frowns and opens the letter, reading over it. And then letting a groan escape her.

"What case?" John chimes in and Lise hands him the letter.

"The arson guy," she sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.

"That was, months ago."

"And now he's finally going to trial," Dyson nods. Hesitates, for a moment, before she touches Lise's shoulder. "You have any urgent cases, right now?"

"Non," Lise shakes her head, thinking. She's been mostly doing paperwork, looking at surveillance tapes for the others, that sort of stuff. A few cold cases she's taken a shot at, both hasn't found anything new or interesting about.

"Well, hand everything that can't wait over to the rest, you know the procedure."

"Yes, DS," Lise nods. Watches, as Dyson nods and then returns to her office.

"Hey, you were saying that being cooped up here is boring," John shrugs as he hands her letter back. Lise shakes her head at him.

"I rather sit in a comfortable office chair, than on a court bench," she mutters. "This, sucks," she allows herself to say.

"Yeah, court's not much fun," John allows.

"It's not just that," Lise sighs. "I have to find something to wear, too."

It makes his eyes widen slightly in surprise and Lise rolls hers at him. She's been getting away with tshirts the past week or so. But her pants have become uncomfortably tight, leading to her often undoing the button when she knows she'll be sitting for a while. Honestly, Lise thinks that even if she stands up, they'll probably stay up, thanks to her belly now.

But know she'll have to buy a few complete outfits. At least two suits, couple of blouses, blazer jackets... This really couldn't have come at a worse time, she thinks, aware of being slightly irrational. She would have had to pick up work-appropriate maternity clothes sooner or later, anyway. She's just peeved, that she is being forced to do it now.

"You know," John starts and leans back in his chair. "I've never actually taken you shopping."

It makes her laugh out loud. Because that sounds way too much like a line from a tv show.

"Taken me shopping?" she repeats, amusement tingeing her voice. John makes a broad gesture and Lise shakes her head at him.

"You're not coming along when I buy maternity clothes," she tells him and decides to return to her paperwork.

"Why not?" John's voice pulls her attention back to their conversation. Lise frowns at the file on her desk before she looks up again.

"Because," she replies, thinking that it's going to settle this. When he doesn't say anything, she nods to herself and returns to her work. She should probably figure out which of her odds-and-ends cases she can hand over to the others, considering their already precarious caseloads.

When they're leaving for the night, John has his hand on the small of her back, guiding her in the direction of his car.

"So, about that shopping trip," he starts again as they are sitting in his car and Lise accidentally lets go of the seatbelt she was about to buckle, causing it to snap back against the side of the car.

"Look," she sighs and grabs it again, buckling herself in, "this is, not something I want you to tag along for," she frowns.

"Why not?" John questions as he pulls out of the parking lot. "I can carry your stuff. Be the pack mule."

"Because you'd be so comfortable, being surrounded by pregnant women looking for stuff to wear," Lise rolls her eyes at him. Sees his grip on the steering wheel tighten, for just a moment.

"Maybe not," he allows. Glances at her, before turning his attention back to the road. "But the offer stands. You know, me playing pack mule."

Lise watches him from her place in the passenger seat, her face softening.

"Thank you," she murmurs and reaches out to touch his arm briefly. John hums in reply and she lets her head touch the headrest of the seat and allows her eyes to close, for a moment.

 

* * *

 

Lise feels her lips tug upwards into a bright smile. Watches, as John blinks, before he returns it, grinning at her.

His right hand is settled on her hip, the left one holding her right against his chest as they dance slowly to the soft music.

She finds herself very happy she picked up a few dresses, while looking for work-appropriate maternity clothes. She honestly hadn't expected an invitation, especially not one to a very fancy restaurant three towns over. Especially not since this is his birthday, not hers.

But John had insisted, and he seems very happy about the whole thing. Lise has to admit, it's been a very lovely evening. The food was delicious, and now they've been dancing for almost an hour. Her feet will probably kill her tomorrow, but right now, the moment is much too beautiful for her to want to stop.

She missed this, Lise thinks, a soft sigh escaping her. It's not that they don't spend time with each other any more, certainly not. And they still have the soft, intimate moments between them, so that's not it, either. But, something is, changing. There's something different about those moments, now. It's not just that they often end up talking about the baby, or something that involves him. No, Lise thinks that something between John and her themselves has shifted. Something about their relationship has changed, and it makes her feel, strange. A little insecure, a little lost.

But tonight, tonight feels very much like it used to be, all the time. Just the two of them, no one else, nothing else on their minds. It feels like, for the first time in weeks, she sees him clearly. Feels like he finally sees her again, just for who she is. It's difficult to describe, and Lise isn't sure if any of this makes any sense at all. If John feels the same way, or if this is all just in her head, just something she's over-analyzing and beating to death in the process.

"Don't freak out," he murmurs softly as he steers them over the small dance floor at the restaurant, "but I may have a strange surprise."

"You do realize that this is your birthday, right?" Lise teases him. "I'm supposed to be surprising you," she adds with an exasperated shake of her head. John gives her a look of fake innocence before leaning down to brush his lips over hers.

"You and I, have tomorrow off," he informs her. Lise blinks at him, stunned, before her mouth opens.

"We do?" she asks, just to make sure. She distinctly remembers him mentioning he had a half-day, thanks to an unhealthy amount of overtime, and she'd thought it was good for him. Gave him an opportunity to sleep in, the day after his birthday.

"Uh-huh," he nods. "Dyson took pity. I played the 'please it's my birthday I want to spend it with my girlfriend' card."

"You referred to me as your girlfriend? In front of Dyson?" Lise repeats, surprised. John frowns and then gives a slight shake of his head.

"Not by that word, exactly," he allows. It's one of the rules they have, for their interactions at work. They usually call each other by their surnames, especially when it's a case-related discussion. Lise can count on both hands the number of times John called her 'Lise' at work. Almost all of those instances have been when they were alone with each other, and continuing a private conversation. So really, she'd have been surprised, had he called her anything else but 'Detective Delorme' to their DS's face.

"That's fine," she smiles at him. "I am much more interested in that day off," she adds.

"Really?" John grins at her and Lise lets out a soft laugh at the mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

"Really," she confirms. Moves her hand from his shoulder to touch his chest, stroking over the material of his shirt. "I am enjoying tonight very much," she tells him. "But given the news you've just shared, I am wondering if perhaps we should start heading home," she murmurs, lowering her voice. "I thought we might stay, until they close, then go home and collapse into bed. But since we are both very much allowed to sleep in as much as we want to tomorrow, maybe spending the rest of the night awake in bed could be another element of your birthday celebration?"

He stares at her for a moment before John swallows thickly and gives a curt nod.

"Good," Lise smiles at him and leans up to kiss him softly. "Because I am very much looking forward to that."

 

* * *

 

"What are you watching?"

John is pressing the heel of his hand against his eye, his hair sticking up every which way. He looks sleepy, and rather cute.

"Les amours imaginaires," Lise replies and lifts her legs for a moment to allow him to sit down on the couch. John puts her legs back into his lap and rests his head against the back of the couch. Closes his eyes for a moment, and lets out a sigh.

"Trouble sleeping?" he asks, cracking an eye open.

"I had to pee," Lise answers. "I think that woke him. He's been bouncing around so much, I couldn't get comfortable again," she sighs, poking her belly.

"Huh," John mutters, and Lise tries to lean over to stroke his cheek, but finds she can't quite manage, the baby in the way.

"You should go back to bed," she whispers. "Get some sleep."

"Can't sleep knowing you're up," he replies, his voice slurring.

"Is that so?" she teases him. John shifts a little and opens his eyes. He turns his head and watches her.

"Habitual response," he tells her. "If Catherine pulled an all-nighter, I knew we were in trouble."

Lise swallows thickly, her face softening.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes. "I didn't consider that."

"It's alright," he shakes his head, giving her ankle a soft squeeze. "It's fine if you want to stay up. I'd just, prefer keeping you company, is all."

"Of course," Lise nods. Pulls her legs back from his lap and turns around on the couch, so she can lay down with her head in his lap. She takes his hand and puts it on her belly, where she can feel the baby move. Watches John's face, and the soft smile that spreads across it.

"Do you think," she starts and looks down when she feels his thumb stroke over the material of her shirt. "Do you think you want to be there? When he's born?"

"Yes," he answers, barely pausing. "If you are okay with that, I'd very much like to be there with you."

"I've been thinking, about it," Lise sighs and reaches down to cover his hand. "It, scares me, sometimes."

She's not watched any of the videos. Yet. Keeps putting it off. There are things you can't unsee. Decapitated corpses. Gunshots to the head. Pieces of metal spearing car accident victims. Babies being born.

Sometimes she thinks they were absolutely insane, to do this. Because this, this is so dangerous, and risky, and there are too many variables. Lise likes numbers, numbers don't lie. But when there are too many of them, too many parts in an equation, it can get hard, to figure out what is happening. It feels like this, now. Like she has no idea what's going on, even when she's right in the middle of it. This feeling, of not having all the information she needs, to make the right decision, it's disorienting, disquietening. The cop in her makes her want to get out of the situation, go back to the drawing board, reassess. Only, there's no way for her to do that. Not with this.

"Sometimes?"

"All the time," she admits and closes her eyes for a moment. John lets out a soft sound and Lise opens them again. Looks up at him, relaxing a little.

"He's settling," he remarks, his hand shifting a little.

"He can hear your voice," she smiles at John. "Did you know that? That babies, they can recognize the voices of their parents?"

"Heard about that," John nods. "I was going to ask you," he continues, after a moment, "if you wanted to talk about names?"

"Talk about?" Lise repeats, her brows furrowing. "If you mean, do I want to find one before he's born, no," she answers. " But I don't mind tossing around ideas, if it stays between us."

They try not to talk about the baby at work. Aside from it feeling wrong in general, Lise doesn't like the way it feels like an invasion of her privacy. She tries to not speak about their private lives with John while at work, unless they are alone. But the baby, it's, different. She wants to protect him, so much, and it feels like the best way to do it, is to keep the circle of people who know details small.

Searches his face. The soft look in his eyes, the way his lips tug just the slightest bit upwards. John's happy face.

"Why?" she murmurs. "You find anything you like?"

"No," he shakes his head slowly. "I haven't been looking," he adds. "The thought just crossed my mind. I mean, Kelly, her name was, Catherine's idea. I liked it, thought it fit her."

"You want more input, this time?" Lise smiles at him. John shrugs, his brows dipping into a slight frown as he thinks.

"You want something French?" he asks her, instead of giving her an answer. Lise tilts her head, thinking.

"Maybe," she allows. "But nothing too, fancy," she frowns. "I'd rather like for you not to butcher it."

"Hey!" he exclaims and gives her side a slight poke. Nothing that hurts, or makes her squirm too much, but still letting her know he did not appreciate that quip.

"My French is not that bad," he says, still sounding indignant.

"Shall we test that theory?" Lise laughs. John sticks out his tongue at her, causing her to let out another laugh.

"Je t'aime," she tells him. Watches his face soften, warmth spreading inside her at his look.

"I love you," he replies and Lise frowns.

"Are you replying, or translating?" she asks, causing him to let out a laugh.

"Both," John nods and bends down to brush his lips over hers. Lise lets out a soft sigh of content and reaches up to run her hand through the hair at the back of his head.

 

* * *

 

"Chocolate or strawberry?"

Larren looks up from her paperwork, a surprised expression on her face.

"You brought me ice cream?" she asks, staring at Lise. Who shrugs and hold out the two paper cups, waiting for the other woman to select one.

"I am slowly eating my way through all the flavors," she admits. "And you looked like you could use some comfort."

Larren lets out a soft sigh and then picks the strawberry. Lise nods and hands her a little plastic spoon before she sits down at the free chair at Larren's desk.

"Boy trouble?" she asks after a few moments. Larren tenses, the spoon still in her mouth.

"Not exactly," she allows. Lets out a shuddering sigh and shakes her head. "I left someone, on Montreal. It turns out that we had different ideas, of the nature of our relationship."

"How so?" Lise questions gently. She doesn't want to pry, especially not into someone's private life. But for the past two days, Larren's looked positively miserable. Lise thinks it might be good, if she talked about it, with someone.

"I thought we were exclusive. She didn't agree," Larren sighs. And then her eyes widen and she stares at Lise, her expression one of absolute mortification.

Lise quickly shakes her head.

"It's fine," she assures Larren. Tries to get her face into something that looks reassuring and sincere. It is a surprise, she has to admit. Usually, she's pretty good, at reading between the lines. She doesn't think Larren ever mentioned a relationship, never talked about a current or past partner. Lise hasn't heard her playing the pronoun game, either. She honestly had no idea, not the slightest suspicion, about this.

"Right," the other woman nods. Swallows thickly, and stares down at her ice cream.

"The person I dated, before John," Lise mutters, in an effort to make the other woman feel less terrified about what she's just shared, "was a woman."

Larren's head snaps up in surprise, her eyes widening.

"I know that there are a few people here, who are out. Some of the constables. Two guys in Financial. I think there is someone in Ident, as well. And a couple of people who are playing the pronoun game," Lise tells her. "You're definitely not alone."

The other detective shifts. Casts a glance around.

"How's, Dyson. About this sort of stuff?" she asks carefully. Lise tilts her head slightly.

"Pretty good," she finally answers. "She doesn't allow hazing. I know she wrote someone up, for repeatedly using the f-word."

Lise watches as Larren flinches at the mention.

"There was other stuff, as well. The guy had it coming," Lise tells her. "Dyson is a good DS."

"You and her," Larren starts, her brows furrowing slightly. "I can't get a read on your relationship."

Lise allows a sigh to pass her lips.

"You ever google my name?" she asks Larren. Who frowns, and slowly shakes her head no. "The woman I dated, before John... It turned out that she was a hooker."

"Seriously?" Larren's eyes widen almost comically and Lise shakes her head, mortified at the memory.

"I only found out after. I should have gone to Dyson then, told her about it. I didn't. Needless to say, it was a bad call. She got arrested, for something else, and I had to explain to Dyson why she definitely did not want me on that case. She was, pissed. Disappointed and angry."

"Harder on the female cop, huh," Larren mutters and Lise gives a shrug.

"Maybe," she allows. She knows she tends to react differently, when other female cops screw up. It always seems like that puts all their reputations on the line. Maybe Dyson had been feeling the same thing, when she'd found out about Lise's, indiscretion. Or maybe it had been a more personal thing. Maybe Dyson had been disappointed because Lise had personally disappointed her and betrayed the trust she'd placed in her.

Larren bites her lip for a moment, her brows furrowing.

"I'd, appreciate it, if this could stay between us," she mutters. Lise blinks, then quickly nods.

"Of course," she agrees easily. It's not her place to tell anyone about this, anyway. Truth be told, she wouldn't have mentioned it to John, either. She knows what it is like, to be forced out of the closet when you're not ready for it. She never would do that to someone else.

"I know Cardinal and you probably talk-"

"I won't say a word," Lise shakes her head. Searches the other woman's face. Larren doesn't look all that convinced. She actually looks, terrified. Lise remembers feeling like that.

"Look," Lise leans forward. "I told you, about there being other queer cops, in the precinct. They are out, one of them is even married. But I didn't mention their names. I wouldn't do that, not without their permission. And if you don't want me to say anything about this to anyone else, I won't."

Larren takes a shuddering breath and tries a smile. It comes out as more of a grimace.

 

* * *

 

Kelly's frowning at the ultrasound picture before handing it back.

"Kind of creepy," she says, shuddering for emphasis.

"How so?" Lise asks as she tilts her head slightly.

"You can see the spine," the younger woman shrugs. "I don't know, it's just, unnerving, I guess. I mean, you have someone else's little bones inside of you now," she frowns. "Sorry," she adds when she sees Lise's expression of slight horror.

She slowly shakes her head, trying to shake the image Kelly's words just conjured.

"It's fine," she tells her. If anything, Kelly is kind of right. There are some parts to this that Lise is very happy to push from her mind and never look at too closely. Like the thing with the bones. On some level, Lise knows the baby has bones, she just prefers not to think about it too much. Especially because when she does, she gets to wondering how painful giving birth will actually be, and that's just, no. Her mind is not going there, thank you very much.

"Hey, I almost forgot," Kelly suddenly says and gets up from the couch. Almost runs from the room and Lise looks after her with mild concern. It doesn't take her long before she returns, holding a wrapped present in her hands.

"Because I wasn't sure, if you guys were doing the baby shower thing," she tells Lise and hands over the present. Lise feels her eyes widen in surprise and runs her fingers over the light green wrapping paper. Notices that there are little daisies printed on it, and every couple rows, there's a ladybug, as well. It's, cute. Very dainty. And absolutely nothing she expected.

"You didn't have to do that," she shakes her head, touched by the gesture.

"I wanted to," Kelly tells her, holding Lise's gaze for a moment. "Open it," she says, motioning towards the present.

"You don't want me to wait for your dad?" Lise asks, just to make sure. Watches, as Kelly crinkles her nose.

"He's probably not going to be all that excited over this," she shrugs. It's an odd statement, one that makes Lise wonder what on earth the younger woman might have gotten them, for the baby.

"Alright," she agrees and turns over the package, to peel away the tape carefully. She likes the wrapping paper, would like to save it instead of just tearing it off.

Inside is a somewhat slim cardboard box, the label of some company on it that rings a bell in Lise's head. She thought they did electronics.

"That's just so it didn't get all squished up," Kelly says. "I got the box from a friend, don't worry, I'm not gifting you computer parts."

"Now I'm relieved," Lise laughs and slides her finger under the lid, slowly opening it. And blinking in surprised as she finds bright blue fabric inside.

She reaches out and runs her fingers over it, marveling at the softness.

"They're baby carrying slings," Kelly explains. "Here," she says and lifts the fabric. Pulls a folded paper sheet from beneath them. "There's a shop near my place that sells them. They have all these crazy patterns," she tells Lise, excitement carrying in her voice. Lise takes the sheets and unfolds it, taking in the many pictures and explanations, on how to fit a sling around the baby, the best way to get it on yourself, which positions are recommended for what age...

"This is amazing," she murmurs, touched by the gift. She'd mentioned that she'd like a carrier, for the baby, in addition to a stroller. Even if it would just be for around the house, but she'd figured it might come in handy, to have a way to keep the baby on you and still have your hands free. She'd figured they'd just buy one of those, mandookas. The ones with the clips and clasps. She's looked at them online, even, but not settled on one yet. This, this is much better. It feels a lot more organic, and like a gentler method.

Lise places the paper down and starts to take out the slings. The first one is a bright red-orange-yellow color gradient. It reminds her of a sunset. The second is soft batic pattern of blue, green and turquoise. Number three actually has little cartoon baby animals all over it on a beige background. Lise can see little bears, raccoons, beavers, moose. It's adorable.

"Please don't start to cry."

She lets out a soft sniffle at Kelly's request and shakes her head. Reaches up and wipes the tears from the corner of her eyes.

"Thank you very much," she murmurs. "This is a lovely gift, Kelly."

"I'm glad you like it," the younger woman smiles at her. Looks a big shy. "Hug?" she asks and Lise lets out a soft laugh before she nods and leans over to hug Kelly.

"Stop it," Kelly whispers when Lise lets out another sniffle. "Or I'm going to cry, too."

It makes her chuckle and she leans back. Shakes her head to clear her thoughts and get a grip on her emotions.

"That place is great," Kelly says and gestures at the sheet of instructions. "They have that in so many languages. I only picked up English, but I can get you a French one, as well."

"English is fine," Lise shakes her head. Watches, as Kelly pulls out her cell phone and starts flicking through some pictures.

"They have all kinds of stuff. Bibs, and onesies, and those slings. Shoes, too, and little beanies," she tells her as she shows Lise some pictures.

"This is in Toronto?" Lise asks, her interest growing. They have some stuff already, for the baby. Mostly diapers, and onesies.

"Yeah," Kelly nods. "I can pick up some other stuff, if you want. They don't have a website, sadly, I asked. But they were fine with me taking some pictures, to show you. They make all this stuff themselves, so if you like a pattern on one thing, chances are they can make it into something else."

"Oh, this is cute," Lise says as she sees a beanie with alternating blue, navy and green stripes.

"You and dad could visit," Kelly suggests. "Take a weekend, come to Toronto. I'll show you the place."

Lise blinks at the younger woman, surprised by the invitation. She's never said anything like this, before. Sure, she was fine with meeting up, when John and her were in Toronto for some other reason, but it's the first time Kelly makes it sound like she'd like to do something with Lise, that her father might not be as interested in.

"I'll talk to your dad," Lise says. "I don't have any urgent cases right now, but I don't know about him, if he can take two days off."

"Hm," Kelly hums, stealing a glance at Lise from the corner of her eyes. "Or, you could come by yourself," she suggests, her voice hesitant. "I mean, I don't have a huge place, you two would have had to get a hotel. But if it's just you, you can stay at my place, have my bed, I can take the couch-" she rambles, before cutting off abruptly.

"Would you like that?" Lise asks her carefully. "I mean, for me, to come to Toronto and, hang out with you?"

The younger woman hesitates. Lise watches as she bites her bottom lip, worries at it for a moment, before attempting a nonchalant shrug.

"If you want to," she says and Lise wants to both hug her and shake her.

Sometimes, she knows exactly what to say, what to do, when she's talking to Kelly. Feels that their relationship is solid, stable, they can trust each other. And other times, Lise feels like the ground she stands on is constantly changing and shifting and she is at an absolute loss as to what Kelly expects from her, what is the right thing to do.

"Okay," she decides. "I'll still talk to your dad, but if he can't come with me, I will still visit you. Though, not to be, ungrateful, but I think I will still take the hotel room."

"That's fine," Kelly shakes her head, and Lise thinks she can see a little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

 

* * *

 

"Can you open this?"

John frowns at the glass of pickles she's holding out for him.

"Sure," he replies and takes, opening it with a twist. He hands it back, looking at her curiously.

"Shoulder bothering you?" he asks after a moment. Lise lets out a sigh and then nods.

"Yes," she confirms and rolls her shoulder, a wince leaving her.

It's not something she tends to notice, every day. But sometimes, especially when the weather changes rapidly, it's, for lack of better word, acting up. Sometimes it's a dull discomfort that she can ignore most of the time, other times it's a stabbing pain that comes every time she moves her arm too much. Today's a mixture of both, a dull throbbing that flares up whenever she tenses the muscles in her arm.

"Probably shouldn't have done so much painting," he frowns and Lise rolls her eyes at him. She'd been allowed all of ten minutes with the big roller, before he'd handed her a smaller brush and sent her to work on the edges to make sure they were neat and tidy.

Though Lise thinks it hadn't been for a concern that she was overexerting herself, and more of a case of John worrying that she'd get paint all over him. Lise doesn't really want to admit that he'd been right to have that concern, impressively proven by the fact that Moose is now missing a small patch of fur, where Lise got paint on it and it dried before they noticed. Snipping the fur in that spot had been easier than subjecting the poor cat to an attempt of untangling it and brushing it out. Probably saved their fingers, as well. Moose had not been a happy camper the day before.

"You want pickles, too?" she asks him, nodding towards the sandwiches she's fixing for dinner. John frowns and reaches out to steal a slice before he shakes his head no.

"Not on my sandwich, no," he tells her and goes to get the potatoe salad she made earlier from the fridge.

"So," he starts as they sit down for dinner, "interesting thing happened today," he declares and takes a bite of his sandwich, nodding. Lise watches him for a moment before she starts digging into her own food.

"Huh?" she murmurs and leans back, waiting for him to tell his story.

"You know that lawyer, works for Hart and Hart? Jeffers, the redhead," he explains. Lise furrows her brows and tilts her head slightly, trying to remember, before she nods.

"Reagan Jeffers," she nods. "She give you a hard time?" she asks. She'd been in Ident most of the day, gathering reports and going over findings from old cases with Arsenault.

"Much to my surprise, no," John shakes his head, the corners of his mouth lifting a little. "I think she was flirting," he ads and Lise feels her eyes widen briefly. He quickly shakes his head. "Not with me," he tells her. "With Larren."

"Oh," Lise murmurs and tries to arrange her features into what might be considered a neutral look.

"Larren was flirting back."

Lise swallows and reaches out to take a sip of her water.

"Was she?" she asks, trying to sound interested and not nervous.

John tilts his head at her and his eyes narrow slightly.

"You knew," he says, pointing at her chest. Lise's eyes widen in surprise and she touches her chest, feigning confusion.

"Knew what?" she tries, but John gives her a look, and she knows that he can tell. "John," she sighs and tries to figure out how to explain to him that this isn't something they should be talking about, without giving away that Larren asked her to keep quiet.

"I asked her," he shrugs and takes another bite of this sandwich. "Just, you know, out of curiosity. I wasn't sure if she was just being nice and couldn't tell what Jeffers was doing. She blushed, Lise."

"People do that," Lise nods.

"Not Larren," he shakes his head. Searches her face. "You know, you can trust me, with this stuff," he adds, sounding somewhat hurt.

"I know that," she nods and reaches out to take his hand for a moment. "And I do, I trust you," she tells him. "But this, this isn't mine. It's not my place to share details about other people's lives, as difficult as that may be for you to grasp," she says and immediately regrets her choice of words. "I didn't mean it like that," she hurries to tell him when she sees his hurt expression.

"Like I'm the town gossip?" John frowns at her.

"I meant," Lise tries again, "that this isn't something that you can understand. As much empathy as you may have, being a member of the LGBTQ community, it's a reality that you can't fully understand. How, scary it can be, how painful. You can listen to other people tell their stories, sure, and you can maybe relate to some of their experiences. But that's not, not the sort of full understanding other members of the community will have."

He stays quiet for a few moments, mulling her words over.

"Did I ever say something," he slowly says, "that made you think I'd react, negatively?"

Lise opens her mouth to tell him no immediately, but then closes it again and gives it another thought.

"Concerning me and my sexuality, or all of it, in a broad sense?" she asks carefully. Sees his eyebrows go up in surprise, and lets out a soft sigh.

"No one's perfect," she tells him. "And I never thought for a moment you'd be an ass to me, or any other queer cop on the force," she says. "But the thing is, we don't just react to verbal statements," she sighs. "It's other things, as well."

"Like what?" he inquires and Lise gives a slight shake of her head. "I just, I want to understand," he tells her. "I want to do better."

Her face softens and she lets out a deep breath.

"I don't think Larren not telling you had anything to do with her not trusting you, specifically. She didn't want anyone to know," she tells him. It seems to make him relax somewhat, though he still seems troubled.

"So I'm not that much of an asshole?"

"You're starting to be one, right now," Lise reminds him. "Honestly, this isn't about you," she frowns. "So please don't make it about you. It's about her and what she's comfortable with. If anything, take the fact that she didn't panic when you asked and didn't fly into vehement denial as a good sign."

John sighs and gives a slight shake of his head.

"She's my partner," he slowly says. "I... It feels like I should know this stuff."

"I never outright told you I'm bisexual," Lise points out to him.

"You never acted like you weren't, either," he throws back at her. It makes her frown slightly, as she tries to remember whether she ever did anything on the job that gave away her sexuality. Then again, she's been out for years, and she doesn't censor herself in the sense that closeted cops do.

"This isn't information you need when you go into the field with someone," Lise shakes her head. "I'd understand, if we were talking about an injury, or something that would affect her ability to do her job. But who we fall in love with or sleep with, that's not in any way an indication of our work performance."

She can see he wants to protest. John even opens his mouth, but then he seems to think better of it. Furrows his brows and closes it again.

"What's going on in your head?" she prompts as she leans forward. Braces her elbows on the table as she watches him.

"I don't know," he admits. "It's... hard, to explain," he sighs. "I know that, sometimes, people can feel like they have the right to information that has zero impact on them. Maybe this is one of those cases. Maybe I'm just, hurt, and trying to compensate."

Lise takes a breath and takes a moment to think, herself.

"I'm not Larren," she tells him. "I can't tell you with absolute certainty why she didn't tell you. You have to ask her, for that sort of information. But, I can tell you why I sometimes don't outright disclose my sexuality."

"Because it's private," John says. "You told me that."

"Yes," Lise nods. "It's protecting my privacy, and those of my partners, as well. But sometimes, it's more than that," she allows. Swallows, because this, this is difficult, to talk about.

"When you're gay, or bi, or transgender," she starts, "sometimes, you're forced to make a choice, between 'being your truest self' and staying safe."

John's eyes widen slightly and his mouth opens a little as he stares at her in shock.

"I'm, lucky. I've never been caught directly in a situation where I had to decide between my physical well-being and my mental health. But I know plenty of people who have had to make that call. Every time we out ourselves, or are outed against our will, which is so much worse, there's a risk involved. Telling someone you're a member of this community, it can lead to profanities being yelled at you. It's led to people literally murdering us, for simply us being ourselves," she explains. Pauses, because she feels herself getting agitated.

"You don't have to talk about this," John tells her, his voice soft. "I'm sorry, for what I said," he adds. "And I see your point. I hear what you're saying. And I'm not telling you to drop this topic because it's making me uncomfortable, I deserve to get lectured. But you're tearing up, and I don't want you to get upset."

"I'm always upset, about this," she shakes her head as she draws a deep breath. "At least when I think about it for a few moments. I just usually do a better job, of hiding it, or pushing it from my mind."

"I'm sorry," he murmurs and reaches out to touch her arm. "I, forget, sometimes. How different the world can be, for someone else. Someone with less, privilege."

It makes her smile a little, hearing him use that word. She knows he's aware, of some of his privilege. They both are. But Lise thinks he tends to forget that being heterosexual in a heteronormative society is one hell of a privilege, as well.

"I think I've lost my appetite," she sighs and pushes her plate away. Sees John swallow and reaches out to take his hand. "It's okay, it'll come back in a bit," she assures him. "Just, too much in my head, right now, to eat."

"Wanna wait?" he asks her and Lise shakes her head no.

"Go ahead," she tells him. "I'll sit with you, we can talk, but please, let's change the topic."

"You sure?" John presses and she almost rolls her eyes at him then.

"Yes," she nods. "So, have any luck finding a good car seat yet?" she asks him and sees John frown at his sandwich for a moment, before he picks it up again.

"I read some more reviews," he tells her and Lise leans back in her chair and listens to him go over details she's not entirely sure she really understands.

 

* * *

 

"You look," Larren begins, then frowns slightly. Lise allows a sigh to pass her lips.

"Rough night," she replies and steps aside to let the other woman in.

She considered calling, to cancel their cat-date. But then Lise had figured, it might be good. For Larren, yes, but also for herself. It would definitely provide her with some much needed distraction.

John and her spent three hours at the hospital, before being sent home. She'd wanted to take the clipboard and beat the Intern over the head with it repeatedly when she told her that they wouldn't admit her. Her contractions hadn't been regular and had actually gotten less frequent when they were waiting to be seen. Her water hadn't broken, either, so they'd told her to go back home, wait until the contractions were either five minutes apart, or her water broke, and then come back.

Lise hates admitting it, but she did cry, in the car. She'd just been so tired, and disappointed, and felt miserable, for dragging John out of bed for nothing.

She's still having contractions, on and off. Has been since last night. John asked, if she would be okay, if he went to work, and she'd told him to go. They're not regular, and not as painful as they were last night, either. Right now, they're just making her feel uncomfortable.

"I brought chocolate?" Larren says and holds up a small plastic bag. Hands it over to Lise as she takes off her cardigan.

"I hope you don't want to feed that to Moose," she laughs and Larren rolls her eyes.

"They're for you," Larren replies. "We pitched in, McLeod, Szelagy and me. Or rather, the guys handed me money and told me to get you something nice to cheer you up."

"Thank you," Lise nods, and swallows. That was, nice, of them. John said something about McLeod actually seeming, concerned, for her, too.

"The bib's from Dyson," Larren adds as Lise sits down and looks through the content of the bag. There's some pretty nice chocolate, and gummy bears, as well. And a bib, with a shield on it.

My daddy is a cop, don't mess with me.

"She said she couldn't find one with mommy," Larren shrugs, her brows twitching slightly. "And apparently, none of us can draw worth a damn, so making it ourselves wasn't an option."

"You could have given that to John," Lise shakes her head, gently stroking over the soft cloth.

"I didn't go in today," Larren shakes her head. "And I got the distinct impression that you two have, issues, with discussing your private life at work. I didn't want to step on any toes."

"Thanks," Lise smiles at her, watching as Larren sits down on the floor, waiting for Moose to trot over to her.

It's strange. Lise would have said that, given the chance, Moose actually enjoys being an asshole, to people. She definitely likes riling up John. Always has, since the day she first sat on his porch. She's perfected annoying him into giving her extra treats down to an art. Tends to sneak up on him and startle him by suddenly letting out a loud yowl. And there was that time the cat decided to pounce on him, claws outstretched, while they were sleeping. She'd been banned from the bedroom for two weeks, following that incident. Moose had taken it in stride, making sure to follow John around the house the whole time her punishment was in place. Lise still thinks the only reason the cat is now allowed back in the bedroom is because she was annoying him so much.

But with Larren, Moose never did anything like that. She's practically the poster child for good behavior. Only has tried to swipe at the woman once, and that had admittedly been Larren's own fault. She's cuddly and purrs almost the entire time Larren is touching her. She plays with the toys the detective offers, and nudges her for treats. Sometimes, Lise thinks they actually have two cats, given how different Moose acts around Larren. Then again, she's much the same with Lise. Maybe the cat just doesn't like men. Or she uses John to get the worst of her antics out of her system, who knows.

Moose lets out soft meow and flops down in Larren's lap, rubbing her face against the woman's leg.

"Hello, Moose," she greets her and starts scratching her head. Lise watches them, for a moment, then decides to get them something to drink. When she returns, Moose is purring loudly, her eyes almost completely closed as she enjoys Larren's ministrations.

"Would you like something to drink?" Lise asks her. Larren nods, and tells her some water would be nice. Lise nods briefly, before going to the kitchen and grabbing two water bottles from the fridge.

When she returns to the living area, Moose is wiggling her butt, ready to pounce on the feather duster Larren is moving around for her.

"Thanks," the other woman mutters as Lise holds out the bottle to her. "Son of a-" Larren exclaims, dropping the duster and standing quickly. She shakes her hand as she walks around, a pained expression on her face.

On the floor, Moose is sitting back, her head cocked slightly to the side as she looks between the duster and Larren.

"She get you?" Lise asks, worry etched on her features.

Larren shakes her hand out and hisses before she inspects it.

"Crap," she murmurs. "Paper towels?"

"Kitchen," Lise points and follows the other woman, to have a look at her hand herself.

"Oh, that burns," Larren breathes as she holds a paper towel to her hand. Lise washes her own hands before drying them, and gently lifting the paper towel away from Larren's.

It's not a deep scratch, just a long one, crossing the entirety of the back of Larren's hand.

"Little monster," she mutters under her breath.

"There's disinfectant in the cabinet, can you..." Lise gestures, pointing down at the cabinet beneath the sink. They keep a first aid kit in there, for emergencies. She'd grab it herself, but her belly would get in the way, and she really doesn't feel like bending over, right now.

Larren nods and gets the kit, handing it to Lise.

"It's going to burn," she warns her before she sprays the disinfectant over Larren's hand, drawing another pained hiss from the woman. Three parallel scratches that are red and slightly raised. They didn't bleed much, and aside from the middle one, have already stopped.

"I'm sorry," Lise murmurs as she holds a bandage up to the wound, to be able to cut it to size.

"It's fine," Larren waves her off. "I wasn't paying attention, totally my fault," she sighs. Allows Lise to place the bandage on her hand carefully.

She's taking it in stride, Lise thinks. Doesn't seem overly upset about it, or frightened. First time Moose had tried to swipe at her, Larren had jumped back and not gone near the cat again for the rest of her visit. She'd been tense and shaky, but now she's, relaxed.

Enough to notice when Lise braces herself against the kitchen counter, a shaky breath leaving her.

"Sorry," Larren apologizes and quickly cleans the bloody paper towel away. Lise gives a slight shake of her head. The blood wasn't the reason for this.

"It's fine," she tells her, an edge to her voice. One that makes Larren pause and search her face, her brows furrowing in concern.

"Are you alright?" she asks her gently, reaching out to touch Lise's upper arm. She swallows and lets out a breath as she nods.

"I'm fine," Lise says and straightens. Opens her mouth again to reassure Larren that really, she's fine, when she feels a rush of liquid between her legs. Looks down in surprise as heat spreads across her face.

"Ah crisse," she breathes as Larren takes a step back, to avoid the spreading puddle.

"I'm gonna assume you didn't just pee yourself," she says and Lise lets out a chuckle.

"You'd be correct in that assumption," she nods and rubs a hand against her belly when she feels the baby move.

This is pretty disgusting, she thinks. And embarrassing as hell. She needs to clean herself up, and get changed. And call John, to tell him about this. Tell him to meet her at the hospital, too.

"So," Larren says and frowns a little. "What do you need me to do? Besides cleaning up here," she asks, gesturing to the floor. Lise swallows and takes a moment to think.

"Would you do that?" she asks her. "It's totally fine if you don't want to," she adds quickly, and Larren rolls her eyes.

"It's fine," she tells her.

"I, need to change, into some other clothes," Lise sighs. "And, could you, take me to the hospital?" she asks carefully. "Just, drive me there. You don't have to wait with me, or anything. But they told me to come back, if my water broke, and honestly, after last night, they deserve to have me on their hands for as long as it takes."

Larren lets out a laugh at that.

"Sure, I'll drive you," she nods. "You just go and get dressed, while I'll clean up this mess, and then we'll leave when you're ready."

Lise gives her a thankful smile and slowly steps around the puddle, pulling a face. She really could have done without this happening in front of a colleague, she thinks.

 

* * *

 

"You don't have to wait," Lise says, for the fifth time.

Larren gives her a look and then shakes her head.

"Sorry, I can't hear you," she tells her, looking over the nurse's shoulder as she puts in an IV. The woman glances over her shoulder, and Larren tilts her head at her with a challenging look.

"If you want some privacy-" she starts and Lise suddenly feels herself shake her head.

"No, it's fine," she tells the nurse. She's kind of glad, actually, that she's not alone. She's called Dyson, so she can tell John to meet her at the hospital. She hadn't wanted to call his cell, or worse, text. He's a cop, she doesn't want to catch him in a moment where all his attention is needed elsewhere. Dyson knows where he is, she can relay the necessary information to him, make sure he gets to the hospital fine.

The nurse raises an eyebrow at her but refrains from commenting.

"Someone from OB will be down here in a bit, to examine you, and decide if you'll be admitted," she informs Lise. "Do you need anything in the meantime?"

"No," Lise shakes her head.

"Actually," Larren chimes in, "a pillow would be nice," she tells the nurse, an acidic smile crossing her face. "In case she'd like to lay down," she adds. Lise can see the nurse swallow before she nods.

"I'll see what I can do," she tells them and pulls the curtain closed around Lise's gurney.

"You don't have to do that," she shakes her head, and Larren furrows her brows before she gives a slight shake of hers.

"Unless you come in here screaming murder and already pushing, it'll take OB a while to see you," she tells her. "Might as well make sure you're comfortable in the meantime."

Lise sighs and nods. Yeah, her experience from last night taught her as much. She'd gotten an Intern to have a look at her and then take a five minute phone call with their boss up in Obstetrics, before they'd told Lise they wouldn't be admitting her. And that had taken three hours to accomplish. She kind of already hates the people here.

"Also," Larren adds, "I was hoping to make her ditch you. As a patient," she shrugs. "Wendy's on today, she's great," she adds at Lise's confused look.

Lise blinks and searches the other woman's face. Sees the slight hint of a blush that's suddenly coloring her cheeks, and thinks that this has to be a joke.

"You're antagonizing my nurse because you want to see your, girlfriend?" she asks, incredulous. Larren's eyes widen and she quickly shakes her head no.

"No," she says, "no, that's not..." she trails off. "One, she's not my girlfriend. And two, her bedside manner is much better than the one of that witch that just poked you three times."

"So you're not dating this, Wendy?" Lise asks, looking for something to distract herself with when she feels a new contraction building.

Larren looks away, a guilty expression crossing her face.

"Okay," she admits, "maybe we went on a date. One!" she exclaims and draws a laugh from Lise.

She shakes her head and rubs a hand over her belly as the contraction stops. "How did that happen?"

"Couple weeks ago, the guy that took a nail gun to his neighbor's hand?" Larren says. Lise frowns and then nods, remembering the incident. John told her about it.

"I got stuck with taking his victim's statement. Wendy was his nurse. The guy was, a moron, and really whiny. We got to talking, and, she asked me out."

"Good for you," Lise smiles and sees Larren grin briefly.

"She's really nice," she sighs. "It was a good date, and we're trying to figure out when we can do it again."

Dating as a cop, that can be kind of difficult. Especially when the other person also has a demanding job, which being a nurse definitely is. And it's good, to see Larren so, giddy. So obviously smitten with someone. She deserves this, Lise thinks, and she's happy for her.

"So, Wendy, huh?" she says with a sigh and shifts in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. "Tell me about her," Lise requests, hoping that it might distract her from what's going on with her. Might help with her building nervousness.

 

* * *

 

"I'm sorry," John murmurs softly and Lise shakes her head mutely, her hands gripping the railing of the bed, hard, as she breathes through the contraction.

She's lost count, after the sixth apology. Isn't entirely sure what he is even apologizing for, right now. Earlier, it was for not making it to the hospital sooner, and now she thinks he's just, blabbing, in general.

Her birth plan says no offering of pain relief. She'd figured that, if she wants any, she can always say so. And now Lise finds her resolve to do this without pain relief slowly wearing thin.

It just hurts. It hurts, and she feels uncomfortable, and she's aching all over. It's been nine hours, and Lise feels like they're getting absolutely nowhere. Last time someone checked her, she was at six centimeters. Just like she'd been the time before.

And what's more, she can feel herself growing tired. She wants some rest. Last night was rough, she barely slept at all, and even during the day, with the random contractions she's only managed a few short naps. She's exhausted, and she just wants all of this to be over.

Maybe she shouldn't ask for pain relief, and instead go right for the c-section. That would be both things, combined, right? Something to numb her pain, and get the baby here faster.

"Have you called Kelly?" she asks when the contraction finally lets up. Straightens and presses her hands against her back. Which is just throbbing, right now, with a dull kind of pain.

"Yeah," John nods, his brows creasing a little. Lise remembers then, that she already asked him that. Like, two hours ago, she thinks.

"Sorry," she sighs and rubs a hand over her eyes. "Brain fog," she tells him.

"Hello Lise," a nurse greets as she steps into the room, bright smile plastered onto her face, and Lise almost wants to reach out, grab her by her scrubs and tell her to wipe that grin off her face. She blinks, surprised by the hostile impulse. She's not usually like that, she frowns.

"I'm Sandra," the nurse says and Lise barely resist rolling her eyes. She's in labor, that doesn't mean she lost her ability to read name tags, thank you very much. "I'm taking over for Rose."

"Shift over?" John asks and Sandra nods as she takes Lise's wrist, checking her pulse. She could just have a look at the CTG, that would spare her some time, Lise thinks drily. It's not like the damn thing isn't recording everything.

"Yeah, she finally got to go home. Stayed for another delivery, her shift was over an hour ago, poor thing."

"Can't imagine how that felt," Lise remarks, her statement ending in a sharp intake of breath as she leans forward again on another contraction.

"Very funny," she presses out when she sees the grin John's trying to hide.

"Serves you right," he shrugs and she does have to admit, he kind of has a point. This feels too much like karma to her liking.

Thankfully, the nurse has stopped touching her. Is now looking at the CTG read-out, brows furrowed slightly in concentration.

"They are getting closer together," she tells Lise, once the contraction has stopped. "You feel like you're progressing?"

Lise frowns at the question, before she slowly shakes her head no. "Doesn't feel any different," she admits with a sigh. And blinks in surprise at the tears that are suddenly pooling in her eyes.

"Hey," John murmurs and reaches for her shoulder in concern. "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head mutely and draws a steadying breath, not wanting to burst into tears.

"You're pretty exhausted, huh?" Sandra says and walks over. Touches the small of her back briefly and Lise nods. "I know you don't want to be offered anything," she tells her, and Lise quickly nods.

"So please don't," she tells her, because if she so much as hears the word 'epidural', she will jump at the chance.

"It's not on your plan, but, we can try the tub, if you want? Just to see if it helps you relax a little. A lot of women find it easier, to manage the pain in the water. Makes your muscles relax."

"I'm not giving birth to a fish," Lise shakes her head, drawing a laugh from the nurse.

"Alright, no tub," Sandra nods. Looks around for a moment. "Oh, I speak French, by the way," she tells her. "Rocking chair's not to your liking?"

"I can't sit," Lise shakes her head with a wince. "Too much pressure," she adds at the questioning look the nurse gives her.

"Okay," she says, tilting her head a little. "Have you tried kneeling down?"

"I like walking around," Lise frowns, well aware of the fact that right now, she's doing very little walking. Mostly because she's found that the railing of the bed is great, for wrapping her hands around it when she has to breathe through a contraction.

"We can walk the hallways for a bit, if you'd like," Sandra offers. "You don't have to stay in here. I know it can get pretty old, staring at the same walls," she shrugs.

"I thought," Lise frowns, nodding towards the CTG.

"They've got a nice range," Sandra waves her off. "And I can take you off it for a bit, since the baby seems to be doing well. So, how about, we send John here down to have something to eat, before the cafeteria closes in a bit," she suggests. "And you and I walk around in the meantime? I'm pretty good at distractions," she tells her. "Or I can just shut up, whatever you prefer," she adds at Lise's look.

She swallows and gives a slight shake of her head before looking at John. He looks every bit as tired as she feels. And just because she can't have anything to eat, right now, doesn't mean he has to starve, as well.

"She's right," Lise agrees with a soft sigh. "You should go and have something to eat."

"Because the ER's close, in case I get food poisoning?" he quips and Lise rolls her eyes. They've all made their fair amount of jokes, about the food that's served here. It's definitely a far cry from restaurant quality, but at least he could get a sandwich or something.

"Because I will need you, and I'd rather you didn't faint thanks to low blood sugar," she tells him. John frowns before letting out a sigh. Bends down to brush his lips over her forehead in a soft caress.

"You'll call me, as soon as anything changes, right?" he asks Sandra, who nods eagerly.

"Absolutely. We love using that intercom system."

Maybe, Lise thinks, that cheerful attitude isn't the worst thing that could have happened to her.

She manages to stay upright for as long as it takes John to grab his jacket and wallet and leave the room. At which point Lise leans forward with a hiss of pain, a soft curse leaving her.

 

* * *

 

"It's okay."

Lise lets a low moan pass her lips and clenches her eyes shut against the pain. Moves a little and presses back against John sitting behind her.

"Let him come," she hears the midwife say. "It's okay, just relax. Good job, Lise, just let him come."

She's dimly aware of John's hand on her upper arm, of him giving it a squeeze. She almost wants to tell him to stop it, to stop touching her, but all her energy is spent on just breathing, and not bursting into another pained scream.

"Easy," Sandra cautions as Lise tenses up again, a new contraction hitting, the pressure building again.

"That's it," her midwife calls as she pushes, and Lise wants to reach out and smack the woman, if it will make her shut up. "Keep going, you're doing wonderfully."

John's lips touch her temple and she tries to relax, but it hurts, it hurts so badly. Her mouth opens, and Lise knows it's her making that noise, but it sounds so completely unlike her.

"And breathe."

Lise manages to take a breath at the reminder, feeling lightheaded. She thinks she hears an alarm sound, briefly, and her eyes snap open.

"What's that?" she breathes, suddenly terrified.

"Your oxygen dropped," the nurse tells her. Frowns, at the monitor, when Lise lets out a gasp. "Okay, here we go," she mutters and there's suddenly a mask over her face. Lise reaches up and pulls on it, the plastic on her face uncomfortable.

"It's just oxygen, just for a moment, until your levels are up again," her midwife says. Lise tries to tell her to take it off, but she feels the baby move, and instead of words, a gasp leaves her and she screws her eyes shut.

"Lise, try and concentrate on John," Sandra instructs. She feels him shift, feels his breathing change, grow deeper. Lise lets out a pained laugh, her entire body screaming out. Maybe this whole 'calm birth' thing is overrated, she thinks. Maybe she'd be better off, if she went and screamed.

"You're on the home stretch," her midwife beams at her. "You've been doing so well, Lise. It won't be long now."

It would be a lot better, Lise thinks, if she were giving her a time frame, here. Because she's heard those words before. Is pretty sure that they were the same ones another nurse said to her like eight hours ago. So really, Lise figures, it's not her fault when she isn't totally buying what the woman says.

"Here's another one," the midwife declares moments after Lise feels a new contraction, and she can't help herself, she stares at the woman for a second, because it's ridiculous, to think that Lise wouldn't have been able to tell she's contracting, again.

She shifts, pressing herself back against John in a futile effort to escape the pain. Hears his sharp intake of breath and tries to open her hands, just a little bit, because she knows her nails are digging into his legs, but oh God, this hurts, it hurts so much-

"Good job!" one of the other nurses proclaims and she feels the contraction peter out, allowing her to relax a little.

"Sorry," she breathes, between pants. John's head moves against hers as he shakes his head.

"It's fine," he murmurs, and kisses her cheek. "You're almost there," he adds and Lise wishes he hadn't said that, because they've been 'almost there' for what feels like an eternity now. She can't see the clock on the wall any longer, so she's not sure, but she knows it's been at least half an hour, since she's started pushing.

"Ready?" the midwife asks as another contraction builds.

"Non," she shakes her head in response, knowing already that her body doesn't give a rat's ass about that. She tries to count, between contractions, to distract herself, from the pain and the exhaustion, but she's growing tired, and this is hurting so badly it's hard to concentrate-

"John!"

She hadn't meant to scream his name, but it had been the first thing that had made it past her lips, and the pain is so bad, Lise just wants it to stop, wants it to be over, it hurts so much, she needs him to make it stop-

"Deep breaths, deep breaths now," the midwife calls out and Lise feels a sob tear free of her control, and then she screams again, and suddenly, it's over. The pressure's gone, the pain receding, and Lise feels a weight on her chest. Looks down and her arms go up automatically, cradling the squirming thing against herself.

"Here he is," her midwife declares and Lise blinks in surprise, before her vision goes blurry. "Good job, Maman."

John's arms are around her, he's holding her against him, and she cradles the baby as her shoulders begin to shake.

"Euh," she breathes, trying to get a good hold of him as their son erupts into a loud wail. It's both the most wonderful and heartbreaking sound she's ever heard.

A nurse covers him with a towel and helps her get him into a better position. Lise sniffles and shakes her head, unable to stop her tears. She presses a soft kiss to the baby's forehead and relaxes back against John. Hears him sniffle, as well, his hand covering hers on their son's back.

"John," she whispers and feels him squeeze her shoulder, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

"I know," he replies, his voice hoarse and Lise turns her head a little to look at him. Shifts to touch her forehead to his cheek and draws a steadying breath. When she opens her eyes again and looks down at the baby, she feels her heart being squeezed at the sight of his scrunched-up little face.

"Ah, bébé," she whispers and lifts him a little, to hold him against her. Gently pats his back to calm the baby down. He screams into her ear and Lise flinches at the volume, but finds that the change of position does seem to calm him down a little. His screams quieten down to soft whimpers. He's so small, Lise thinks, as he shakes against her. So little, and fragile, and theirs. Their little baby, their son. He's here, he's finally here, and Lise can't think of any other time she's ever felt so absolutely bursting with love.

 

* * *

 

"Aww," Szelagy mutters and Lise does a double take at the man, before she looks down at the baby, just in time to see him close his mouth again, after yawning.

"He's very handsome," Larren grins, and nudges John's side. He's beaming. Again. It's like he hasn't stopped, since the baby was born.

"Viens ici," Lise mutters and gently lifts Joel from the car seat. She holds him up against her and kisses his head softly as the baby stirs, a soft sound escaping him.

"Here you go," John says and puts a soft cloth over her shoulder, to catch any possible spit-up. He does that, a lot. Their son, that is. Lise has lost count of the times she's had to change her shirt, because Joel spat up over it. She knows he's managed to make John late for work, too, a couple of times. He'd just wanted to hold him for a moment before leaving, and their son had chosen exactly that moment to get rid of any excess food he'd eaten before.

It's the first time she's actually thought that going to the precinct would work out. She'd figured she'd pick John up from work, since his car is being serviced. Larren had stopped by in the morning to drive him in, and she had said she'd give him a lift home, too. But Joel has been having a good day, and Lise figured she could try and see if he was up for a short drive.

"I'm guessing you want to leave now," McLeod says, frowning a little. John shrugs.

"You said you were going to write the report," he points out and Lise chuckles softly.

"Come on, don't be a jerk," Larren says and claps her hand on McLeod's shoulder. "I'll help you, alright?"

The older man lets out an exasperated sigh before he holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Fine," he grumbles and Lise gives him a bright smile.

"Thank you," she tells him, rubbing a hand over the baby's back. "You grab your stuff, I'll just go see Dyson, for a second," she turns to John, who nods. Bends down to brush his lips over hers briefly, and then kisses Joel's cheek, as well.

Dyson's in her office, frowning at the computer monitor with a less-than-pleased expression. Lise carefully knocks on her door frame, holding the baby against her.

"Oh," Dyson breathes as she looks up, a bright smile immediately settling on her face.

"He wanted to say hi," Lise smiles and kisses her son's cheek. She walks into the room as Dyson stands and rounds her desk.

"He's so little," the older woman remarks.

"He is," Lise sighs. "Though going by the noise he can make, you wouldn't think it," she adds, drawing a laugh from the DS. Watches her, for a moment, before she swallows.

"Do you want to hold him?" she offers. Dyson looks at her in surprise.

"Are you sure?" she asks her, searching Lise's face. "It's fine, Lise, really."

"No," she shakes her head, "he's okay," Lise decides. She's still, nervous, about letting other people touch the baby. She trusts John, she knows he can handle him, but everyone else, it's... It's like her heart gives this small stutter, and she can't quite catch her breath. It's a strange sensation, really, one Lise has to admit she's not too happy about.

"Okay," Dyson nods and holds out her arms. Lise changes her hold on the baby before carefully handing him over, making sure his head's supported. It takes her a moment to let go, after making sure that Dyson has him well secured against her. When she finally does, Lise swallows thickly and takes a small step back.

"Hello you," Dyson smiles down at the baby and Lise finds herself grinning, as well. Her son's eyes are open slightly, looking up at the strange woman holding him with what might be a confused expression. "You are a very handsome fellow, you know that?"

"Oh, he does," Lise nods. "He had all the nurses wrapped around his little fingers."

"Your mommy and daddy as well, huh?" Dyson asks the baby with a grin.

There's a soft knock on her door and Lise turns around a little, to see John step inside. Feels him rest his hand on her hip for a moment.

"Kissing up to the brass already?" John murmurs, causing Dyson to let out a laugh at that. Lise tenses when Joel jerks, startled by the loud sound.

"I think you better go back to mommy, huh?" Dyson says and hands the baby back carefully. And Lise thinks maybe she should really start to work on this separation anxiety she has, because it's ridiculous, how relieved she feels, once Joel's in her arms again.

"Off for the night?" Dyson asks John, who nods.

"McLeod's writing the report," he tells her, and Lise sees the DS nod.

"Alright, then off you go," she waves them on. "It was nice meeting you, little guy," she smiles in the direction of the baby. Lise smiles and lifts Joel's hand a little in an imitation of a small wave goodbye, before her and John leave the office.

"I have an interview tomorrow afternoon. Think you could come by again? Get me out of that?" he whispers as they leave the precinct, drawing a soft laugh from Lise.

"Depends on what your son thinks of another trip," she tells him, pausing briefly when John leans down to kiss her.

_fin._


End file.
